It's hot. And one more day is fading in red rays.
An old small boat has lost among pink lotuses.
It's sliding on the edges of the opaque sharp waves,
cutting a rug of the green leaves, to opuses*.
The waves are hissing, gently touching the boat's sides.
The hiss submerges the world into deep mesmerism.
The rays are lighting up frail petals from inside.
Gods gave to earth a piece of the far paradise.
A lot of magic shining silky icon-lamps
are swinging up and down below and overhead:
the evening makes small copies on the airy veil,
but they can't clone the sight of the frail lotuses.
Lotus Valley. July, 2015
by Thea Ariss
17.05.2025
* opus - музыкальная композиция
Silky icon-lamps. Memory shards
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125051707758
Свидетельство о публикации №125051707758
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