At the beginning of the winter, Svetoslav Ivanov [read an ebook week .txt] 📗

our life
turns in the wheel of losses.
I'm afraid of snow tomorrow.
In the white shroud of winter
we will be
truly buried.
And our children will make
snowballs
by snowdrifts in our hair.


When the snows will come?

When the snows will come?
Those - white, bright and clean ...
Among them to run, air - snow to breathe,
my hair tends to scratch white.
Be pure white - snow in my soul
calm lakes - ice crystals, in my eyes.
Be quiet.
My blood - tired, stop in the veins,
and my heart to become white snow-drift.
Since so much time I'm waiting for the winter.


At the beginning of winter

Yet the world is beautiful and the sky was full of birds.
Breathe winter wind brings snow, they play with the Ravens.
Dog barking somewhere, probably have something to rejoice.
And do not ask for bread and warm cottage.
However, I know I do not find themselves in power
open the window to whistle, take hands with the sun
and if it were a ball of snow to put out and rolls grandmother
where as frostbite drags bag
with misery complete with onions for lunch and with care ...
Hey, Grandma laugh-out! Do you see the small
where man-made Snow, and he is coming with
hir nose with a carrot ... Look! - he waves us
a hand broom and he is love in the winter.
Even I can not rise to see-the world is beautiful!
And the sky is full of birds and snow free.


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Publication Date: 01-11-2010

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