Apr. 5th, 2011

anna_fedorova: (helicopter)
The day is gray, an April day,
An April day for us.
To touch the clay, to think, to play,
To tread the chosen path.

I watch you while you sit and smile,
We have a meeting here
With people of the Golden Mile
Who wear an icy sneer.

Please don't vibrate, we have to wait
Until they come to shine.
They’ve made their vanity parade
And try to make us shy.

This funny trend you understand
And mock it in your heart.
You’re more than friend until the end
Would draw us far apart.

Far in the past untouched by rust
I've managed to decide –
When all the trust had gone to dust
You would have me by your side.

The pride and lust are made of glass,
But the loyalty – of steel.
This April day is yet to pass,
The wheel is yet to reel.

By this I mean – with you the scene
Is never getting bad.
To prove this fact I touch the screen
Of my threadbare iPad.

The music starts. It’s calm and soft,
It neither laughs nor grieves.
No time is wrong for this sweet song,
It is the “Autumn leaves”.

It goes through shades and nearly fades,
The music fills the gloom,
As we embrace and face to face
Dance in a meeting room.

The autumn leaves, the scent of spring,
The race of arms and arts –
For these two minutes of the swing
Before the meeting starts.

5 апреля 2011


anna_fedorova: (Default)

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