I want the mirror, which is dark
And does not show a thing,
To tell me - where your bark
Will go and where you will be.
I see: a mast of a big ship,
And you are on its deck...
A steaming train... which zips
Away without check -
The evening leas all wrapped in dew
Beyond them ravens fly...
- I bless you, dear friend, adieu,
Farewell, good bye!
***
© Copyright: Алексей Васинпапа Кузьмин, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110020105048
Свидетельство о публикации №110020105048
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