Читать книгу The poetry of spring - C. Zueva - Страница 2

The silvery moon moves

Into nightly skies silvery Moon moves. Lilies are under the moon’s light. Stars are shooting. Only the Ghost is in the sky. Moonlight sparks off waves as if makes the fire, these are kindles dreams. From the Rose dropped hundreds of the petals. The gardener gathered them, as a bouquet of flowers. In the little closed Window, the light daily exists there. She from the ground picked up, abandoned of which, flowers. The Moon over the patch of light’s floated in the Sky there and stopped, creates the silver to spilt in Sea.