sometimes accidentally, you are stumbling
with lips, for my not hiding the curiosity
about half- closed eyes, you are examining
my pupils, it seem black surrounded grey,
with green edge of humid kerb.
covered with the shadiness of eyelashes,
with skilled, move of the hand, you are
gathering the thickness of hair from my neck,
attracting with smell, and warm sparkle
in order, in a minute, awkwardly to weave
in into it a clover, at least more rainy
pearls would fit, the diadem of tears,
which sometimes I am putting. for concerns
or crimson flower, when the heart
too firmly is hitting with our rhythm,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a beautiful poem, but it is necessary to know the tongue well. With the help of translators, very much it is easy, for the mistake, which can to distort the text, and here it wouldn't be indicated. Poem unusually nice and friendly. Very much I like it.