By unknown author
We've got used to our cosy home,
In the cold days we're warmed by cloths...
And in our lives we're directed
By Belief, by our Love and by Hope.
Everyone has a star high in heaven.
If your star couldn't shine as before,
If you lost your Belief, then remain only
Love and Hope in your life, no more.
It is usual for Love going away, and
Your eyes then are squint by hard tears,
But the warm blood is pulsing in vessels,
Hope is dying at last turn in real.
Seems like vanity - that cosy home,
You may live and without the cloths,
But let be the directing force further
Our Belief, our Love, our Hope.
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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2011/07/06/3018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem