In the quiet music of the waves ...

Felix Komarov



In the quiet music of the waves,
No hope, no guilt ...
Just a joy to be a wave,
Arguing with the Black Rock,
Hugging her teasing,
Behind him in the distance beckon ...
But rock is quite happy,
For her wave as a cream,
Licking long tongue ...
Lips in the cream, the cunning dwarf,
Rooted rooted in eternal sleep.
The horizon on all sides
And always comes a wave,
Calls happily drunk.
Do not run out the dispute,
Between the waves and the son of the mountains.
All rights, such as it is,
That's the good news.