Sing me a song in your language,
So that I don't understand anything.
So that I have only the language of love,
I will remember only your tenderness.
Sing to me about love and home,
About the pink spring dawn
And the thick white fog.
Who sleeps in the morning in a ravine.
Sing to me about the birds,
That they fly
Through the blue sky,
Returning to their homes,
Albeit modest and gray.
Sing me a song in your language...
Sing me a song in your language
© Copyright: Екатерина Баринская, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124042303447
Свидетельство о публикации №124042303447
Рецензии