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On http://www.stihi.ru/2015/01/17/7657 You know... because I always wanted to draw... so many different paintings occurs before the eyes I tried the pencil...even the brush had tried to take But strokes strokes remain... not fit the pattern picture And not what I want... can't I even verses to draw May hands are tough... maybe my mind is restless... While perhaps not the Lord gave me the gift in the colors... the joy, the sorrow and soul on the canvas to apply... We are given only what we need, what we deserve Failed... well... that is given to us, we will bear... So many different pictures... out of the tree a day come under the white coat Them the morning frost from the fog of the night gave her Beauty on earth... washes heart with joy and bliss Soars the soul... life is beautiful... and feel... before lived The light from the full moon... and the path of the stars... where to go in the dream to meet their favorite Where silver paint to recruit and sprinkle it on canvas As for the canvas to put the faces of those who have gone... the faces stored in the heart And where's the colour for me to take, tell me... it put me dream... The smell of roses... and the instant pain of a thorn... when the flower I cut... The feeling of joy... ran barefoot in the dew... The bitterness of the poison of betrayal of a friend... and the sweetness from sleep only... we together As love... and the loss of his beloved... to sketch and blow on canvas 18.01.15 AKC © Copyright: Konstantin Achapowski, 2014 The certificate of publication No. 115011803535