White flakes are falling from the sky
And hit us hard on ruddy arms.
We hardly asked and hardly knocked
But the cold ice didn't move at all.
So allow them to not scare me
I don't care about the news
And about the fleeting future
Of little Russian children.
Nature will not remember,
The wounds of earth will heal,
Voices won't flow in the wind,
Nobody ever will sing.
So let the last veil of winter
Gently as mom cover us
And finally let the nuclear war
Trample our warm hearts.
The last veil of winter
© Copyright: Егор Рождественский, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125030300095
Свидетельство о публикации №125030300095
Рецензии