Through the tulle curtain of the crowd.
Between us, like a frozen river,
The winter cold held down the summer flowers.
The parting was prophesied by the sorcerer.
Words are woven in a sticky web.
Frowning autumn, cold at the door,
You'll remember how dizzy you were!...
How to dream of happiness for two:
Meetings, glances, a gentle hand...
And now, the smile of your lips
And there's an extinct candle in the window.
Don't worry, dear, about me,
Though hot from the lashes tear,
You'll write a story yourself in September
And you'll find me in the crowd.
Свидетельство о публикации №120010300777