Letters to Love. Long poem.
dedicated to Morena Baccarin
I'm living in-between the lines
Own books, remembering all by reading
About us in mighty past.
I'm thanking fortune – new and last,
As twirl in lall (on tempest's tine
Lies in the grass before stormbreeding);
As poet's dream – muse of the nai,
That in the Derbent's mountains reeding;
As greatest Danube's carol streaming
When hugs Morava – heaven's tie! –
Enamoured hearts in lyring seeing;
As mage, who backs to paradise,
Above the Russ is caring winging –
And hell in horror falls to dust.
© Nemoybereg. 2003th year.
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In the night of 21 to 22 – the astronomical New Year.
Really-real New Year. In this time,
time of the great darkness around
and the Great Lightness in the human souls,
I wish your letters not in your mind,
but in my mailbox: firstname.lastname@example.org