Your letters – the rays of the Sun
still absent in autumn that weeps
while reading the Book of My Fate…
Thus, dancing the last tango here,
I’ve lost in the darkness my way,
and too many ghosts in the fog
are singing so sweeter around
to lull me to sleep, lull to sleep…
As long as you write, I’ll wake up…
Please, leave me this joy as before
to hear your voice passing through
all boundaries, spaces, at least,
by letters, the rays of the Sun,
that chase ghosts away every time…
Septembre 27, 2011
The Rays of the Sun
© Copyright: Александра Крючкова, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125082007435
Свидетельство о публикации №125082007435
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