02.11.2020
A festive hall
Festive hallA Festive hall is in lilies effulgent -
Let beamish music be heard -
Unheard, it falls asleep, and flow of old canzonas
Dries it, regardless of the decent crowd.
Whether we are dreaming in the depth of centuries?
A heat blooms with clear inflorescences .
So quietly masquerades rush
That they are conducted by a spring! But with bronze
A plain weapon embedded suddenly
In the heat of inflorescences on dead carpets.
And are we dreaming in the chandelier of dark years?
Why not midday, why evening?
A light holiday was darkened by witchcraft.
Blond braids turned into the blackness -
And an enchantress cries after a darling
And youth will not be returned by a sorcerer.
Oh it is pitiful after a day and twilight volatile!
Remember milky nights above the river.
Festive lights quivering and plaintive
And music bursts parting
And in the heart of a sorcerer there is pity after a day.