To Borechka 6
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Today I dreamed of you:
We were arguing at the board.
It was soft as the notes flee:
Tchaikovsky's Valse de salon.
And our speeches intertwined,
And it was unclear whose
feelings were there combined,
But it was merged: mine and yours.
It is not said in life like that,
Where everything is disconnected.
You went to your homeland,
To movie that was domestic.
You were serious and precise,
And with your tongue a markman
was playing the verse of mine
In heaven's simple couplet.
Oh, I will not forget you.
your visit was like music.
That evening calmed contention
of all the revolutions.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş