With starry of July I’m stating,
Thus, dropping plenty of new lines.
Lace waves through wind are undulating.
The day of yore shows wet-through signs...
And fragrancies of sweaty lilies
In a night garden place their call.
They aren’t at all to be blamed, really,
That in a crowd we wandered all...
The crowd of wanton-like temptations,
Someone's desires and intrigues.
With scars from wreckage situations,
A page of old and decent scripts.
Their cover’s sewn across with years,
There’s inky trace and screech pen’s play...
What’s left between us, it appears,
The beauty of the yesterday...
So, keep our happiness palm-covered,
And brood the fire spark thereon.
The sacrament’s by light discovered
For living’s sake, for you alone!
For living s sake, for you alone!
© Copyright: Александр Нагний, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126032700757
Свидетельство о публикации №126032700757
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