|AngieAsh ||Дата: Воскресенье, 27.03.2016, 20:06 | Сообщение # 1|
|In an abadoned manor.|
I have decided to become a witch
Today, new garb's turned-up into all-stitched
By beads, and I wove bright leaves in crown
And bone-dry stump became a throne.
I touched with stick all trees around me.
At once the nature got away from sleep.
The oak told about age, that passed,
About manor, and the man from past,
Who planted alleys, spended here days,
About ladies, scurring like they're fays,
About troikas, which were riding swift,
About bear, chained into the pit.
The fish-farming prospered here,
In the pond existed trout.
I knew that miracle is near,
And I stayed almost calm-downed.