Slowly slowly the night is crawling.
Throughout the forest this light is flowing.
Lanterns of stars are hanging low
Forming a lake of the flame on the road.
Slowly slowly I’m touching the ground
On the tip of my toes; no breath, no sound.
A blossoming branch is stroking my hair,
Splendor is felt tonight everywhere.
In hearts of flowers the drops of dew
Are pouring down like a mellow tune
And rolling gently on my thirsty lips
In midnight hour on a pillow of dreams…
A Pillow of Dreams
© Copyright: Ларина Екатерина, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104102701587
Свидетельство о публикации №104102701587
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