There are a lot of stars at night.
But why it doesn't warm their light?
Maybe, these are just our dreams,
however far its fires seem.
When I am looking at the sky,
I'm not dead, I'm still alive.
I see the stars, the land, the grass.
Life gives me this fantastic pass.
If space is measured only with ashes,
we light it on lanterns of the dead.
It happens with our hopes crashing.
You see the roads you shall never tread.
When I am looking at the sky,
I'm not dead, I'm still alive.
Является поэтическим переводом на английский язык стихотворения «Летуч, порхая, гобелен»
There are a lot of stars at night. Jazz-Rock
© Copyright: Алексей Береговой, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125020205665
Свидетельство о публикации №125020205665
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