I’m not an angel, not a bird,
I haven’t got the wings,
But I proclaim the sacred word
And pull the silver strings.
Before my eyes I see the way,
Which leads to better life.
This thorny path I ought to pave
With my internal light.
My song will fly throughout the world
And touch your souls within.
It seems that they are made of gold,
Of beautiful and thin.
I m not an angel, not a bird
© Copyright: Бондарев Алексей Владимирович, 2000
Свидетельство о публикации №100101000003
Свидетельство о публикации №100101000003
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