I have to fight each step I make…
Thin on the ground’s my bliss…
All we two ever dreamed to have,
All of that’s gone to dogs.
That’s what affection did to soul:
Heloma, coal and ash in it.
To me, it all means nothing though
If only mom would live.
Let it be that foes have pushed me down,
Cutting of my oxygen supply.
Let it be that they wish to burn me live on fire!
Let no luck be at Life’s stage!
Let foul weather be in rage!
Let it be that we live some more time if we only dare!
Поживем А. Лобановский в переводе Никулиной С. Г
© Copyright: Светлана Никулина, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117021512151
Свидетельство о публикации №117021512151
Рецензии