Taste of soil in your warm palms
Sweetly lures to the sky.
Strip of kisses covers body
Like smooth silk in golden light.
You're a door into the next world,
Mirror of the moon and blink
Of Spring.
Bitter lustre of your triumph,
Train of simple sharp weekdays
Are cutting thoughts like splinters or like
Frozen water with its grace.
You're a door into one's fortune,
Separated bridges-twins
And dreams.
Chorus:
Let me, little snow,
Calm down your heart throe,
Fluently swinging on hot breathing waves.
And magicly dancing
I'll touch slightly your anxious pulsing
And see my reflexion in your gentle face.
How to fly
On wings of silence playing pleasing chords?
How? To find,
To find you in used up long time ago
Notes.
(Редакция и перевод - Грушко Ксения)