Meeting

Людмила Ангелуца
So many winters and springs had flyed,
I live like into sleep, not in reality
And birds had sang us about love tired
I'll meet my mother there cordialitly.

I know that the long sleep of life spill in
The sparkling dew, down on the green grass.
I hope my soul the God would save with in
To wake up in the Paradise like clean glass...

There will be consolation, love and youth
And laughing children on the blooming valley.
Unending ever life joy, saint ever truth,
Just shadow of the sins awhile smelling...

Among the blessed faces full of lightness
I'll see the native long awaited eyes
And in the gentle rays of dawn brightness
I'll ever warm by her divine love unsized...