My shape is very simple,
My house is rather poor -
I’m an islander for ever,
From a very distant shore.
I live yet wait nobody,
You come – I welcome you!
To cook a supper for you -
I’d burn my household through.
You look – I’m nearly yours,
You mount – okay, come on !
Our laws are very simple:
Imprinted in the soul.
We’ll catch a Moon from Heaven,
And hold it - in a palm -
If he will go - forget him -
Forget I will - my own.
I fear my scar’s still burning
And won’t be timely closed -
Until another stranger
Would want to quench his thirst.
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Проста моя осанка
Marina Tsvetaeva - My Shape is Very Simple
© Copyright: Виктор Постников, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111121105588
Свидетельство о публикации №111121105588
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