To the old house my soul sends its wings.
Visions arouse though I released the strings.
The dew is hovering the mirrors so light,
And spider's web falls from the icons so dry...
The windows' eye plates stand by too numb to spy.
I lost my focus in daily half-and-half,
The foliage stalked us, and sent us quiet laugh,
And knifelike crescent cut the wires so slim
And scattered shine on the grass like the river stream,
A faraway song that made my feelings luff.
I see the stars in the heavens' velvet hood,
I hear thunders and never-silent wood,
And where the wind stumbled on the run for a ting,
A horse rushed by and left for dusty prairies for good.
I hear all that, and there is a spring.
Original: nastyapoleva.ru/content/view/132/34/ (Niyaz Abdyushev)
The Wellspring
© Copyright: Lxe, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115110902890
Свидетельство о публикации №115110902890
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