The Anthill Of Thoughts Poem by Lyudmila Purgina
The Anthill Of Thoughts
I can't change and can't ruffle
That anthill, where my memories do live.
Here - before my eyes - they are going
In one line, as in cinema - a film.
Settling myself at the fat Queen of Thought,
I begin my way between the passes in twig's loads...
My memories from my ant-life are going
In mind without smell or words...
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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2010/11/05/615
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 7:48:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
