Читать книгу Зимородок - Яна Кане - Страница 19

In deep winter the sleeping trees

Dream of branching out,

Spreading wider

Than the reach of their earthly life.

Their roots drink in the stillness that pools

Beneath all layers of the ground.

Their crowns bloom with constellations.

They hum and sing with winged beings

Who are tinier than the smallest insect,

Greater than the largest bird.

They drop their luminous fruit

Into the stream

That flows far beyond

The shores of the known world.