3 мин за четене
By the setting sun illuminated
sea horizons shine red as fire
in a game of weather incapacitated
wrathful waves retire...
And the ship sails lightly, with a sway
with tail- winds so silent they're unclear
And you disappear in the mists so far away
you, shores of motherland held dear
The hour of our return trip
to hit it might not seem
water and land- unmeasurable strip
the world will only be our dream! ...
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