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< Margot Volkova
Minsk



Forehead something lopnuv, scattered on the cheeks.
Nimbus, I guess. Night enchanted Debussy!
Today we will show the language night Coachman
With their dashing trams, tanks VIP taxi.

No coins in his pocket; and I throw in love?
Tear off the a button that does not allow to breathe.
We were lucky today, all strikes are not in the eye and eyebrow.
And there is nothing more than a blissful threaten us.

Pushing the home, We will guide prospectus night,
Zavernёm in Albion, look at the booming Museum,
Prishvartuemsya to grim flagpole - stove pipes,
Make sure that the house holds no more friends.

Feet in sneaker pop, because the appointed hour,
So family and packed in sleeping bags ...
We dispense without them. They will not notice us,
After all, they are always referred to as poems - poems.

Time is up to second when polyhnet dawn.
Remember, the sun was rising, and we kissed on the nose?
We sneeze of happiness ... But the sun has no,
On the moon-Apelsinka solo sad dog.

Surprisingly, even - Welcome night dogs.
Stonehenge desert they have nothing to protect.
Sorry, we have removed from the slow clock,
But I know that I can already give you a hug.