Я-опять...

JUNE, 31.

Dejection Twenty First
And downcast Twelve -
There are no dragons, no knights and love.
But we have only day
For unit hands and selves:
For happiness forget about time enough.

In longest hundred year -
Just single little day
Without leaf in all of calendars.
One day for YOU and ME,
For choose of common way...
How feel and how catch this dart?

In what of faring lands,
My Princess Millicent,
And times, and castles do you living yet? !
And why you so ice
For my so fiery sense! ?
And why I can't your elves eyes forget  !?!

Oh, may be you are dream,
My vision, my desire
Or may be Mr. Priestly was mistakes,
And day that – every   day?
But I'm so tire
To love, to live and miracle to take...

2000 г.
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SINGING DOWE.

Legends about blood and love,
Songs about the dust.
But now my story - about the dowe,
Unique Singing Dowe:

In antiqual whistles
Of Arthur's times
I read this beautiful myf
About no struggle,
About no crimes,
But only about  the  Nymph.

She lived in a thicket
Of Celtic wood
From Times of  the  Many Gods.
And once of ten thousand
Centuries could
She take real body and love.

Became no lady
Or beautiful deer
Like others - for sinful love,
She transformed in blank
Like a soul tear
And innocent  little dowe.

She flying in castles,
She flying in huts,
And   carrying   love   in   wings.
But only in love
You can see her - by heart
Renounce from fussiness things.

Two people in world
Were listened her  songs:
Old Merlin and young Vivien...
All catching your dragons,
Authority wrong,
Deserve no dot their poem.

2000 г