ΠΠΈΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° Π½Π΅ Π·Π°Π±ΡΠ΄Ρ
(ΡΡΠΈΡ ΠΈ ΠΈΠ· Π΄Π΅ΡΡΡΠ²Π°)
" Never Forget."
A wordless talent, Tears on my eyelashes, That beckoned me to the fields in the frost. Behind me is war, Behind me is life. My friend told me: "Fight till the end!" But after many years I came back again, To my native fields That call to me On which I fought On which then, Where friends died On those very fields It's like my youth Like the first snow Covered my footprints, Covered my days Of my youth It covered my dreams
Swept away my eternity
I froze then from chance Died of chance I lit a candle from a burning lamp, I used to light a candle from a burning candle. Mum used to say in her dressing gown, That she'd be waiting She'd have faith in me To visit the church
To light a candle
And whisper in my sleep: "I love you, believe in you, and wait for you." The mother must have loved her son so much That the candle was tilted to her shoulder And sobbed softly but sweetly, With wax water in a blizzard. How many years have passed I remember everything And my own mother. I'll never forget the sweetness And that candle that wept. (My verse from childhood)
Bloomhills, [09.05.2024 18:44] Description: A verse from an im.man who grew up and wrote a letter to a friend (in such a light verse form) back to his old home, his native land, remembering his whole life, his friend and of course his mother.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
