вторник, 24 февруари 2009 г.

Come

Your touch spreading warm waves all over my fingers.
Falling words into silence. On my face weren’t tears.
Just some drops of the rain. The caress of the spring.
Gentle breath in my hair. And no pain. And no fear.

Come with me in My forest at the edge of the night.
No one never knew this place exists.
There are magical streams bathed all in the moonlight,
Starry trails in the water, sheer light morning mists.

Weeping willows projecting shady grids on the gravel,
Mossy boulders embraced by the reeds, water-lilies,
Tender rainbow reflections at down in the grass.

Come and listen the stories of the whispering maples,
watch the dance of the sun rays and follow the wind...
Feel the heart of the wood. That's nowhere. That's us.

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