Share this poet:
A restrained elegance enveloped in a Slavic midnight hue.
She has a voice...
No one can cross...
She has a chant...
Like a 'Breathing Rose'...!
Her words are so simply hung. I love her words.
i like it very touching
I pray to the sunbeam from the window - It is pale, thin, straight. Since morning I have been silent, And my heart - is split. The copper on my washstand Has turned green, But the sunbeam plays on it So charmingly. How innocent it is, and simple,