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 glass of cold cocktail
With a slice of orange on the brim,
The sun melting frost from conifers,
The sausage in the pan;
Sizzling,
Soft,
Being turned over.
Camping in the chill of the morning,
Singing songs around the fire;
A troop of dancing caveman,
Joy,
The tough have become tender children.
It gives me hope
That the child is still alive in all of us.
A glass of cold cocktail
With a slice of orange on the brim.
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