This sea, which is too blue,
Cannot sustain the sky,
I thought of sending you
A letter of good-bye.
These trees, which strive to fall
In ocean of green grass,
They send us final call
Or try to notice us.
These stars, which shine too bright
And show us the way,
They can’t enlighten night,
And make of it a day.
This land, which is too far
From our gloomy North
With sounds of guitar -
It makes vacations worth.
This life, which is too brief
To hate or to adore.
And so I'll receive
A letter of hello…
Mediterranean
© Copyright: Олег Дедков, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119022200228
Свидетельство о публикации №119022200228
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