Стихи

* * *

Sail to the Colchis shore
with whiffs and blows of wind.

Look at my throbbing core,
hearth's glimmering hint.

Gale is about to shower
its violence and wrath.

Disposable in my power —
a warning to write on a cloth.

Fling that ring of sorrows
in the deathlike lake to sheathe.

Let's pass by grieves and horrors,
and take me — the silver fleece.

25.09.2022