“Your eyes are laughing, emerald and stylish…”
“How so, stylish eyes?” – The girl would ask.
“It means that drops of beauty: French and Irish,
Italian and Russian; future, past
Have gathered in those crystals – free of polish,
Of vulgar lies, pretense, affected masks;
Your eyes can love and hate, create, demolish
And conquer souls, laughing, – so fast…”
“Why all these clever compliments?” – She wondered, -
“Are you in love, poetic silly boy?”
I answered, rather puckishly and fondly:
“Without love, adventure – life is boring.
Let’s miracles create: a few, a hundred!”
She laughed: “Right after coffee, in the morning…”
The Sonnet of Emerald Eyes
© Copyright: Маленький Принц, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115111502756
Свидетельство о публикации №115111502756
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