Дата: 21-08-2003 | 01:38:16
Traces and tracks. Barefeet on the sand.
Seems like a hostile penetration.
Same as temptation to pass border line
crossing an enemy state.
Traces and tracks. Barefeet on the sand.
Step on a soaking temple.
Red like an apple, rising in mind
clod of the sun in my hand.
Traces and tracks. Barefeet on the sand.
A novel she scrawls on a ground
hastily bound to dare remind
of the tenderness story she meant.
Дядя Миша-сан, поэтический перевод, 2003
Сертификат Поэзия.ру: серия 625 № 17795 от 21.08.2003
0 | 0 | 2179 | 17.11.2024. 20:38:06
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