Music is ringing in the garden
With such an inexpressive grief.
Oysters with ice on dish smelled
Freshly, keenly like water in the sea.
He's told me: “I’m your loyal friend!”
And briefly touched my dress with fingers.
How his hands’ touch is not
Alike to real hugs!
Some can stroke a cat this way,
Some can watch this way a rider.
There’s only laughter in still eyes
Under eyelashes gilding luster.
But mournful cello’s voice is chanting
Behind prostrating lying smoke:
“You have to thank the welkin, dear,
For the first time you’re with your love alone”.
In the evening anna ahmatova
© Copyright: Анна Сафр, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122020203961
Свидетельство о публикации №122020203961
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