Involuntarily. Caught off guard
Winter. Illness is in full swing.
And the frost is powerless, it\'s tired
It\'s better this way for future flowers planting
And what a sad day - unblessed,
Like blue fog settled by the river
Every single hour is exhausted:
My hand doesn\'t feel my hand. Ever
A new case is brought to fruition now
Old ones can\'t be counted on my fingers.
Even the moon sometimes gets bored,
When the sun has to close glow
The sky is tactlessly silent bed sheet
As if everything consists of end finals
Fears every time work for wrong deposits,
Otherwise, why would they need terminals?
My face is tired of feeling thea wind as well,
The exhausted stars are torn apart
.Frost guarantees to be an bold scoundrel,
Spring says: too late getting this start…
And what\'s left for summer now:
To burn in sultry sawdust appear,
Or to smolder in dim windows?
Can rain ever come without a simper?..
Or all wrong when it\'s problem admitted
But summer tickets have gotten cheaper.sail.
It doesn\'t matter that time cuts off and beats.
After all, an ascetic is destined to be himself.