Читать книгу Time and love. The novel in verse - George Pospelow - Страница 13

No spreading

like a jellyfish,

slobbering

about love.

The clothes

undersized,

the mind

isn’t half.

No hanging

of the sighs

on the line

to dry.

No kneeling

down,

begging

a trifle.

To ask —

then all of you

to the eyes’

rays.

“Yes”

is not

for nothing,

an accomplished

phrase.