T. Korbut - White verse
Made of moonlight dim,
Through the fields you go,
With a mighty gleam
In your look, and now
Time might stop, and you
Will recall somehow
Days of solemn dew.
*This is a derivative poem written by me based on the aforenamed work.
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Татьяна Корбут 28.03.2023 11:02 Заявить о нарушении