blue May. The glow of warmth.
Prozvyaknet not ring at the gate.
Sticky smell wafts wormwood.
Sleeps cherry in a white cape.
The wooden window wings
Together with the frames in the thin curtains
Knits whimsical moon
On the floor lace patterns.
Our upper room, though small,
but clean. I'm with you on your leisure ...
That evening, the whole life of me nice,
As a pleasant memory of the friend.
garden polyshet, as a foam fire,
And the moon, straining every nerve,
wants so, each shaking
By wrenching the word 'cute'.
But I this is Blooming, in the expanse,
Under Talianki merry May,
I can not wish for,
All, as it is, endlessly taking.
I agree - come and stand,
All yavis, what is pain and joy ...
Peace to you, recent noisy life.
Peace to you, blue cool.