Version of the poem from the story "The Green Hills of Earth" by Robert Heinlein.
When I my eye
Stare somwhere high,
Where flieing brightly spark,
And every star
And near and far
like diamond in a dark.
I think about
When i was proud.
I found and travel`s and fight`s...
I'm tired of roam.
About my home
My songs and all my minds.
And when I prey
I try don`t cry
And begging through my tears
To find the end
In native land
There where Green Hills of Earth.
The Green Hills of Earth
© Copyright: Максим Мельников 3, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124083107086
Свидетельство о публикации №124083107086
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