I've taken your hair from under my pillow, Amber.
a thin ginger thread of a timid glow.
I clenched my fists and found my chamber
half-buried in snow.

you're still living here, I can't deny
if I only could.
for you in my head all the blizzards cry
from all the Norwegian woods.

my honey will kiss and it'll stop to ache,
but nevertheless.
I know why sometimes mere trifles make
me walking on broken glass.

I know that your footsteps now must have lost
in the ryes.
but night is still looking inside of me
with your eyes.

Понять то понял, даже ощутил,
всю глубину и мысль сознанья,
Но написать, что пережил
Не зватит мне образованья!
ПэЭс. всегда восхищался людьми, рифмующими на других языках

Алекс Грей   01.02.2011 01:58     Заявить о нарушении