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Sep 21, 2011, 1:22 PM

Poetry

5.0 / 8

674 0 11

Брезите намятат
кехлибарени шалове,
нетърпеливо,
слънцето бърза към теб.
Под стрехите,
гнезда лястовичи немеят,
есенен вятър
тихо свири зимен сонет.
Скоро
безлистна ще остане гората
и за топлите дни
врабци ще напомнят ...

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