No sunshine, no sparkle, no friend to shake hands with, to wit,
In times when your soul is in anguish
Desires? – So fruitless to endlessly wistfully wish,
Those years that are golden, they lapse and they languish…
To love? But then whom? - So meaningless love when it passed,
Yet futile to grant love forever.
You look at your heart…There is hardly a trace of the past,
The agonies, joys - what a paltry endeavor...
Come, passions? - So bitter and sweet, but they’re destined to pass
When reason eventually ripens;
And life, if you cast a dispassionate nonchalant glance,
Is only a silly and meaningless trifle...
No sunshine, no sparkle, no friend to shake hands
© Copyright: Маленький Принц, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123011708124
Свидетельство о публикации №123011708124
Рецензии