I can’t comprehend all your beauty –
That’s like a dream
And it’s making my soul so much dirty
In the running love-stream.
Your voice is a song
Flowing away from my heart
And I feel it’s too long
Going on in my smart.
When no stars shining
In the darkness of sky
And no glance loving
In the depth of the secret fly.
But I’ve no time
To explain my love –
To commit this sweetest crime
Or to free my amorous dove.
My bad is always empty
And my dance is lonely again
My idea is always so thirsty
But I can, I can, I can…
What should I do with my madness?..
I try to repeat all these words:
Of course, she’ll kill me – my goddess,
And the future will prove all my thoughts!
The strangest thing
© Copyright: Денис Шапкин, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107011302390
Свидетельство о публикации №107011302390
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