Читать книгу Earth maiden. Poetry about love - Ирина Тарасова - Страница 12

Because of routine conversations,

I can’t hear my soul.

What should we do now with you,

maybe we just need to be silent?

Silence, peace, and again I will hear

a quiet voice from my soul.

But now she will tell

you how sad she was without you.

Where is the golden mean

that keeps the boundaries of our faces?

Guards and protects us

from unnecessary words, empty insults.

Tell me, my closest friend,

how not to lose in the routine of days,

what is called joy,

the joy of communicating people.