My love is like the sun, with no demands,
She freely sheds her shine upon my lands,
And during night my lands die not, though yearn
For hope to see the first rays of the morn.
Her light's so mild and tender, with sweet care
It gives new lives to sprouts that are too fair
To live in cold, shut darkness of by bosom -
Yet with your warm they lift their heads and blossom!
The same beam so harsly burns me deep,
And melts my heart till pain, till i do weep,
Till it decays all vile and heavy ice
Deep in my soul, deep in my chest - just with your eyes,
A fiery smile, or single word it puts in me
The light in which all of my waste I see :
And when they're pulled out of my rude soul,
The seeds of your kind words, not pressed by foul,
Start growing in your light and giving fruits,
From which find birth more new and fair sprouts,
And deeper in my soul put their firm roots.
Rough paper mlilts
© Copyright: Михаил Фризен, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122082702887
Свидетельство о публикации №122082702887
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