Читать книгу The poetry of spring - C. Zueva - Страница 17

The grandmother

Only then colours are filled the day, when I see you – my Grandmother Anne.

When you’re with me, for all my Way, in the winter, flowers blooming a man.

Your eyes are full of the goodness, which is given to just your one.

As the Moon a rise in the darkness, so is your gentle brown eyes are shine.

Your eyes are lovely gentle glowing, incise the eternal love are moving.