You had been. You. The prettiest dweller of Lviv.
Very close. And my soul was filling with spring.
World around the bench will to leave
Us to speak of nor spirit nor thing.
"Venture. Touch her", - I was speaking in mind.
"Venture. Say that", - trees was rustling in park.
Sun. Wind. Clouds. They were all very kind.
I did nothing. Though they would me to hark.
You had been. This remembrance will always be keeping.
And the banal "goodbye" will be always with me.
If all benches for love hearts have taken for sitting
We'll forever be friends. Let it be.
адреса: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=516885
Рубрика: Лірика
дата надходження 13.08.2014
автор: Роман Селіверстов