Читать книгу Philosophy of Love - В. Спейс - Страница 42

I saw a weeping Birch,

In the glow of the sun in gold,

Shimmering drops, tears,

Breaking in the thunderstorm wind.

Crown – spit branches

Bashfully shielding the body,

As the petals drop roses,

Windy leaves tore.

And the sun with a thundercloud,

Arguing with Thunder in the sky,

Did not notice the wind howling,

Birches, bent to the Earth.

But, soon, the dispute is resolved.

Having washed up with a Thundercloud,

Looked, the sun, letting the beam,

On the body of a chain in gold.

And where white skin is sheltered

Met a ray on the body birches.

The fracture gaped, oozing “blood.”

Sadness from the eyes do not sweep away…