The loneliness
by Roza Khastyan
The warmth of your words
was late though...
The longer - the colder I feel...
And do you believe, that my soul
Got wilder? .. But hovers in dream.
I highly esteem: you'd tried, really,
And sent me the bouquet of warmth.
But that was the air balloon, nearly,
My soul doesn't want to fly upwards!
Hello! My far man, and my near man.
I've learned the old secret this time:
The open arms of the the world couldn't fetch
The warmth for a solitude once...
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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2011/10/17/511
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem