How much you don't move — just weep,
Or moisten your lashes with a single tear,
Or cover your face with your palms,
Where the mark of a bird is known
On the inside of your eye sockets.
Sing with a fleeting dandelion
From July to the grey September,
As I bid you farewell.
Goodbye, foolish bird,
Fly, compressing the air with your wings,
Screwing yourself into the dawn
Like a white drop.
I can't bear this night anymore,
I dissolve your horizon into white
Dry, like snow melting
On thin fingers.
I can't endure without you anymore.
Перевод нейросети 2023
the cry of the grey bird
© Copyright: Вячеслав Свечков, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123040805639
Свидетельство о публикации №123040805639
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