My verses written long ago in youth,
I hardly knew I was a lady-poet,
My verses fell like drops of fountain group,
Like sparkles of the rocket.
And those alike small devils rushed into the land
Where sanctuary of dream and incense dim,
My verses poetized the youth and dead-end,
Those are not read like hymn.
Are sheeted in the bookstore with the dust
Cos nobody had touched them in return,
My verses are like valuable wine’s last cast
Will get the turn.
Моим стихам, написанным так рано М. Цветаева
© Copyright: Юлия Васильева Юв, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106031000366
Свидетельство о публикации №106031000366
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