Читать книгу Unquenchable thirst of love… - Михаил Годов - Страница 40

There's time for everything and turn:

And summer follows the spring's route,

As night's successor, comes the dawn

And the ovary becomes the fruit.

The clocks tick on, and thus each moment,

Dictates us sequence of the lines.

And words are linked within the sonnet.

And generations grow and die.

Haste is the ghostly, bad mistake

And lingering is just a guilt.

And every failure and success:

As a pirouette on sandy brink

But breaking all the terms and frames,

Love definitely will come in May!