The poetry of spring

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The silvery moon moves

Into nightly skies silvery Moon moves. Lilies are under the moon’s light. Stars are shooting. Only the Ghost is in the sky. Moonlight sparks off waves as if makes the fire, these are kindles dreams. From the Rose dropped hundreds of the petals. The gardener gathered them, as a bouquet of flowers. In the little closed Window, the light daily exists there. She from the ground picked up, abandoned of which, flowers. The Moon over the patch of light’s floated in the Sky there and stopped, creates the silver to spilt in Sea.


I keep in my memories you

This is the mist of my forgotten dreams. I am looking for the compassion in the Sky. You are as the Ghost of heavenly earthy days. I keep in my memories Your sight. In the Earthy vanity gust off, the Orpheus suffers into loves. He is looking for the consolation, when he’s singing near the river’s stones moves.


Herbs bloomed on the hill

Alone somewhere, a big forest stands. The Sun, forced his way, looked from clouds behind.

Woodland; Herbs bloomed on the hill. Bluish flowers were, white ones now are here.

Dawn walked quickly out the outskirts of the fields. A meadow trail, circled, was lost in the hill.

In houses were run a crazy Carousel. Lads, cups, bowls and loaves stand.


Into the shining sunset cloud

The clouds were, like melted snows

With white fluffed, into the red sunset.

And the thunder peals sounded

The sky, when did flash of lightning.

The world was untouched by the evil.

And the moon rose, and a night have a been.

A friendship of night and day,

It was merged, as if a Sky on a Moons Way.

And suddenly, startled at the sound,

The goat ran on the mountain’s rocks.

Almost the falling, he ran for another.

A fear had not pinned him on the ground.

Into the shining sunset’s cloud,

Where the stars light up in the dark,

The goat’s shadow was on the mountain.

He seemed to watch to down.

The country is of crazy days,

There It was the triumph mountains expanses.

Where bizarre rocky canyons were,

It sparkled from the effect of a light dances.

Here, centuries-old pines rustles.

A lightning storm there had not worried us.

And, even, any sounds are cautious,

Witch is not tearing done the rockslide pass.

The clouds were, like melted snows

Witch is white fluff, into the red sunset.

And the thunder peals sounded

In the sky, when did flash of lightning it is red.


The blossom, night stars give to the light

Night stars give to the Light. They are spinning on the blossom. And fiery of the glares dawn did the World to flourish again. The shepherd goes into the field, admiring the glare of lights. Its sound sings among sky a build. His flute surprised everyone. Its reeds to swaying, to rustling waves, as if is flying, it was over the lake. The Yellows water lily in a water glistens with dew deceptive face. Of the Sun stopped over the river notes, rays are the dropping to the Lands. In the sky-high in the blue expanse Buzzer, the azure mist is silent on the wiser.


Prairie night

The Night was. The Prairie night was. There was Riverside campfire. The nightly bird flies as soon as must the name. Owl howls amid the lakes calm breathing at night. It seems that hear the realm of sleep so white. A Wild prairie owl slowly drags the prey. And now brightens the morning awoke it was early day. The Morning was mist over river a boy dragged the anchor. And fish was slowly, in circles are float, are the splash at dawn its marker. A fisherman on the boat floated, He throw done the lure. Ah! The long-awaited prey already has been near a boat, the nets a fisherman was with a triumphant cry lets to removes a fish with a hook. He carries a fish in the boat, to show his friends almost He is a dashing young man and his carp is handsome in a dance.


The moon over the patch

The Moon over the patch of Light

floated in the calm Sky there

and stopped in black night,

Creates the silver to spilt in Sea meter.


The bird talks were in the silent

The birds talk is in the silent.

Snow covered forests and fields.

The January of winters lend

Dressed up within clothes his.

The wondrous blonds Whether

Dissolves her shutters land

And creates up on all the windows It is bell

The painted frost it rids.

The White snow fallen on the ground

And covered all I so on the fields.

We descend from the hill boldly meets

And strip from the sled behinds.

A frost was blowing for strong cooling hands

It rids the nose and my cheeks.


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