The golden cloudlet stood overnight
At the breast of the giant-rock
And it flew away with a sunny joke
Far away by the first morning light.
But the wet signs were left in the creases
Of the old rock’s face. It’s alone
And it deeply thinks but among
Is dead sand… And its crying increases.
20.04.99
The golden cloudlet - Lermontov
© Copyright: Виталия Дудинская, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118031103168
Свидетельство о публикации №118031103168
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