Читать книгу Happy Note - Валентина Молодовская - Страница 18

I remember the taste of your lips,

Like one remembers colors of the rainbow.

The Earth, as a cube with sharp ribs,

With no exit to go.

Wherever you look, – it’s a wall,

Whatever you touch, – corners just overall,

Feel being indebted to all?

I’ll give back! – Gifts are not so small.

Let me enter the world where snows

In the morning the steppe will lit up,

Where hills are in sleep as they froze,

Where the dawn lulls us, sitting up.

Where there is no fuss,

And soul feels so free!

Where we are like those,

Whom can not already be.

I knock at the walls of my debts,

Captured by the irrelevant fuss,

Empty night longer gets

In the rupture of winters’ time pass.

And where one sees silver snows,

And the flight becomes free in the winds,

Where hills are in sleep as they froze,

You remember the taste of my lips.