Аннотация: То немногое, что в свое время получилось написать на Английском языке.
Был такой период, когда на Английском писать было проще...
The Soul of a Tree.
The soul of a tree
I`d suddenly seen
And where I`d been
Hadn’t clear for me.
A cry of a heart
To press someone tried...
But I’m still hearing it...
***(I’m looking at the World...)
I’m looking at the World...
It’s crying, screaming, raining.
And all around is bowing and trembling,
And all is looking for secure God...
He’s powerful
And with the open heart,
He is forgiving, loving.
He can give protection
To lonely walkers
Travelling through action
Of cruel Life...
A lot of them...
Who’s looking for a shelter
From troubles making head yours
spinning round.
***
I’ve never thought
That he could ever change
his mind.
But he had changed
And it was not my win.
He’s getting milder,
He can simply smile,
And no sign of irony at him.
He’s getting sensuous
And careful to them
With whom he lives
And walks from time to time.
I thought of him...
I loved him at past time...
And may be I regret
That it was not my win.
To my beloved.
Come back to my dreams...
And color them,
And treat from black-and-whiteness,
And give them sounds,
Smells and sensy lightness...
Remove my sadness...
Help to overcome
My understanding
That all I’ve lost could not be found.
Your silhouette on window frame’s background,
Your sole glance
Can greatly change my mind.