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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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Philosophy of Love
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Olessya
Like a rare fairy tale, “Olessya!”
Sounds above the river, “Olessya!”
And in the sounds of the mysterious forest
I hear the name, Olessya.
In the singing brook is given.
And a song pours over the lake.
Over green grass and foliage:
“… Stay, stay with me…”
“… Olessya, Olessya, Olessya,
You look like violets of the forest …”
A bottomless resinous river
Hair waterfall veil
Falls on girlish shoulders,
Coquettish bang splashes
And covers his forehead with him.
“… Stay, stay with me…”
I hear in the sounds of spring
And the birds are spread by singing:
“… Olessya, Olessya, Olessya.
Like a fairy tale, like a miracle, like a song …”
To climb a frosty strand
A frosty strand
Early Autumn gray.
Memories, lake surface,
Spring comes up to me.
I look into her blue eyes
On a colorful wreath of hair.
Nightingales see nights
Among the interwoven heavy braids.
And whitens frosty strand
Memory of the night, farewell to that.
Floating above the dark surface
In the hair, gray strands.
Paradise
I love those drunk nights,
What is inhale with the aroma of silence.
And the grass in the meadows is thick,
And on the lake reeds.
Everything is familiar in the home side,
There the singing spring is noisy.
Then you went down the path
The look me, as now, beckons.
I forget you, you know, not in power,
Blue eyed tale me.
And the glade that I often see
There in our birch paradise.
I would forget this garden spring,
What do you remember with your color?
The roar of bees, the aroma of healing,
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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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