I like to swallow the flame of sun,
I absorb the bright rays of gold.
I face hysterical fear you shun,
Old age is unable to spread mold.
Noisy sagebrush, be my pillow!
Yolk of daisy, nourish my steppe!
Beauty must stop wars. Billow
Of sea will put out fire of misstep.
I hear the crunch of coniferous cones,
Choir of lost souls is led by a harp.
Let tulips distract martyrs from groans!
Eternal Spring changes its nature garb.
2020
Virus of aesthetics
© Copyright: Аслан Баймагамбетов, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120022205321
Свидетельство о публикации №120022205321
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