John Rolland Poems

You are my russian girl,
don't need blond hair accent,
you are my italian girl
full of round tomato kisses,
...

I want to talk about my city,
Of her tired people who stride over her windy streets,
who have eyes wetter than western rains,
They work from the morning till evening
...

To Love is a boomerang,
When you throw it
It returns in your heart
With more speed
...

It is the spring,
a 'I do not know what' in the air
make run the boys,
flowers are in love,
...

Foolish wars
when I resist,
I don't know why
to your lovely eyes,
...

I painted a door
with my old blood,
blood of God,
blood of Love,
...

Today I looked at a tree,
It distracted me from the time which passes
Of the reason in the selfish traps,
...

If wishes were horses, then beggars might ride
But not only, we would also put Bordeaux
In a bottle of dark green color,
We would put Brest in a coffeepot of sailor
...

Her bosoms
are two erasers
Which erase
My spelling mistakes,
...

I make you this confession
Although of Christian faith,
The sound which I prefer
It is the voice of the Muezzin
...