Mood: гордое. Наварили киселя.
Music: гром и молнии за окнами. И меленько шелестят осины

Maria Terentieva (c) July, 2002

Sky

When I look at the morning sky, At the clouds like snowy flocks, I get the temptation to fly And I feel like I'm locked in a box.

I wish I'd tumble in the air With birds surrounding me. I'd sit on a cloud and watch all things That in my dreams I see.

I’d watch the bushy rigid hills, Blue ribbons in the valleys. I’d sing with breezy ocean winds. I’d flitter above the meadows.

Why did our Lord create the sky? To own blue heavens which Would make all humans want to fly, Desire – but never reach.

Учитель ейный, Джейсон, вылупил глаза и побежал нам хвалиться.