Poetry

May

(Machine translation - Google)
Moon at night because voice sing cicadas,
Wind softly swings trees in the forest
And stored negoy spring coolness
Moth drinking from cups flower dew

Dissolved poppies as scarlet flame
And scintillating water, like a pearl in the streams,
Solovinye trills of the flute over us,
Diadem of the stars in my hair.
Late May, gave us love and joy,
And the freedom of looking at the height of clouds
In the minds of our youth mild hangover
And the smell durmanyaschy boundless meadows.
Comprehensive breast rassvetnuyu breath freshness
And look at you, eyes full of mystery,
And your lips whispering a quiet tenderness,
And far dawn lights the skies.