The Moon has taste and pulse,
We have our faith and doubts,
Until they have our fear,
We're happy now and here,
With ruthlessly high lines
Of stars so cold and fine,
I love your precious smile
And hold you for a while.
And nature, full of lust
And weariness of nights
Will slowly touch our dusk
And multiply our might.
* the original piece is here -
https://poembook.ru/poem/2566090#7479660
Lyudmila Uvarova poetic review
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122043005045
Свидетельство о публикации №122043005045
Рецензии