I’m there, where the space gets embraced by a flier,
I’m there, where the lively rainfalls overstream,
The niveous flowerage cuts its attire –
So wait for me there at the world’s very brim.
With tunable showers and vernal phantasmas,
Cerulean dew in the passionate eyes,
Oh, heaven of linen, you’re with us, you’re with us,
You’re languidly pampered on scales of the skies.
Abruptly, with ease, irrevocably ashing,
The sorrows of hurts and of words missing of,
And very inspired and tender, with passion,
The tune of the heart will be played by our Love.
The sounds bygone, of the flute-pipe restricted,
Will spill, like a night, as a starfall within.
The parting was not, it is none, unpredicted,
So wait for me there, where sky edges begin.
Wait for me at the sky s very brim
© Copyright: Александр Нагний, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125110500747
Свидетельство о публикации №125110500747
Рецензии