and Inessa Garmash Michael, "Looking at the Waves"
Since you are not the rains have gnawed
secular In our house, the rigid foundation.
Draw the wind inescapable arabesques
Cal between the friezes, the night is the agony
Improper a penalty; lackey of persistent
That light north without perishing, defeated
of anxiety, in many lights nut.
Naked in the afternoon, whiten walls,
Spilled in your sky, remains a tear
A piece of sunshine in the fog cystic without
innate innocence of a twilight appearance.
Life is a miracle of fleeting shadows,
A bard who failed to have Moral,
That is not enough to be sea on the verge of a sigh,
Neither the fateful slip of a dream, be a star.
cadent Under the backdrop of your eyelids, my dreams,
treasure the wake truly unforgettable;
Magic Senile hug salt and sand virgin
As kisses waiting outdated farming.
Since you are not, my house is a sigh,
A blue flight taxed indulgent lark.
Somewhere the two, the night is a second
To die a little, as life gets.
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