The wind is breathing, tenderly caressing.
I hear the ringing every time behind me,
I turn around to see a phantom or a blessing
And ancient sun, so gracious and blinding,
Says I can feel that you're a part of me
For distant and beloved
© Copyright: Ольга Бестужева, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111070801006
Свидетельство о публикации №111070801006
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