The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
A child holding up a feather
Against the orange sky,
Swans kiss in the water,
And a dead clock is dropped in the same water
To bury the frozen time.
The feather speaks of the wind,
The kiss speaks of love,
And the clock speaks nothing,
But with the greatest loudness.
I shouldn’t trust.
The sea comes in to kiss my feet,
But it can come in a little more to drag me in.
There is a smell of salt,
Seals,
And barbecue.
And there is fire,
Food,
Friends.
A child with a clock,
Not knowing the batteries can be changed,
Throwing it into the sea.
And no one will ever know the frozen time,
And no one will trust the kid
Even if he says it.
And this trust or it's lack
Is not important
To anyone.
And the frozen time
Is not important too.
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