Читать книгу The Soul Looks with Squinty Eyes - Victor Sanzh - Страница 7

You’re not the artwork love

Your life’s by me embraced.

You’re so spring-like,

By the grass and stones mashed.

And you mash me to pain,

As if it is for what you strive

To squeeze my life from brain

And say: I WANT TO FEEL ALIVE!