The voice of resentment is silently hiding
in shawls of the Mother, since betting is funny:
While someone with a terrier is coming back home,
I’m taking the Moon for a walk till the Sunrise.
The Guardian’s weeping, the faceless of hours, –
the ash of the prisoner’s scattered by Pluto.
As a fairy abandoned in the frozen forest,
I’m stroking paths with my magical broomstick.
I’ll be a star there, above Mount Athos,
a mute one, just faithfully shining from Heavens
to those who take thorny path, leaving here
for those who know to love us immortally...
November 09, 2015
#москваурануполи
#moscaouranoupoli
#moscowouranoupolis
#москваафон
#moscoathos
#moscowathos
3. 0. At the foot of Mount Athos. Athos star
© Copyright: Александра Крючкова, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124061203480
Свидетельство о публикации №124061203480
Рецензии