Oh, why do you crying, my maiden,
over his corpse in the grass?
He's laying in his beautiful armor,
so throw away his cursed crown.
Its not the fire in the portrait,
but everything covered in flames.
Your kisses are poisoned
and your hart belongs to the stones.
I saw you crossing the river,
I feel your shiny sword,
your anger is singing all over,
your dress is red like the rose.
The seeds have become grapes of wrath.
Your performance brake all the shields.
And we all came to pay tribute
to the Star walking through the fields.
Wandering star of the fields
© Copyright: Сергей Шагеев, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126032007964
Свидетельство о публикации №126032007964
Рецензии