Evening Is Cold Evening Is Starry
Evening is cold evening is starry,
Birches and pines have curved their necks,
Pretty, I walk on the path without hurry
Sickle of Pluto is bloody, what next!
Wings became numb and he is really tireless,
Time flies away like mysterious bird,
I see no fear in this moment it’s priceless,
Pretty, I’m breathing this evening, oh, Lord.
Leaves almost fell in November’s desire,
I will hide face – no one knows, who I am,
Evening is good and I’m starting my fire,
Knowing, that it won’t come back like a sham.
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