Thou, lyrist, standing high and straight,
Be wild, keep tranquil reason state,
Be strong enough to bear the stream
Of poet's grim and lawless fate.
Thy sound, I swear, shall never swoon,
Thy speech divine shall ne'er be spurned,
The path you lightened shan't be burned,
But shine for us like nightly moon.
7-8.4.2016
The call
© Copyright: Гардарик, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116040811679
Свидетельство о публикации №116040811679
Рецензии
