About Our Private

For long I want to love,
The love of Scythian, cold, north.
So in the holding arms of calm
I don’t relive the day was lost.

Without feeling callousness
The gust of wind so I could stand.
I don’t remember nights were cursed,
With arm the Moon not to embrace.

The steppes  - without drying sigh.
The river meeting me without a breath.
I don’t remember love denial.
Its threads to the eternity will spread.

I want to meet your glance full of the Universe.
I want wet days with flowers adorned.
And fluffy, tender, white and neat
Minutes will fly your name repeating. 


Рецензии