I don't need to explain,
For what we pour out in lines,
To find the glory of the poet?!
Or did the poems live in our origins?
Maybe we just want to heal,
Someone's pain-beaten soul?
And its understanding of shed,
On long not green land?
In this world is full of callous phrases,
Bring a handful of Holy drink,
Change this world with a spark of eyes,
With poetic soul impregnation.
To greedily lips to fall,
And in itself this beautiful nectar...
Drink, and feel the power,
A man with a true gift.
Here they find peace and shelter,
Millions of poems,marvelous doubt!,
The muses here sing incessantly,
About everyday, their own, and simple.
Here the poet reveals himself,
Here he finds friends and inspiration...
Happy New year, all of you Friends!
With poems that wait so long for birth.
I wish you to write and write,
Let someone judge us laughing,
Only poets know how to fly,
And sing all the ridiculous filth.
Only a poet can have a pure soul,
Illuminate the world with your poems,
There will be light over the vast earth,
If we live honestly to ourselves...
Well,the Stanza is an island,
On which there is no loneliness,
Sprouts lines sprout,
To grow into a verse, and so want
Wish a lot of happiness, warmth,
And love that fills the verses...
Happy New Year!And good to all of us!
Let the Stanza is booming!!!