Can't you see,
how the moon beams drunk the spring,
for the blind stars won't look in it?!
Can't you hear,
their slap on the sand,
wcich killed the sleeping buttercup,
because it declined its colour?!
Can't you feel
that the yellow curse
is going to obsess my hair
and kill our love?!
Therefore,wipe out with a rubber
the moon on the picture,
before you have coloured it yellow.
Love is born only in the moonless nights.
Copyright © Rumiana Borisova