I write poems in Russian, they are absolutely without rhyme in English.
Ten steps the end of the tale,
The path is completed, I'm sitting at the water...
Moon from heaven посрывали us mask.
Nothing, even the same dreams.
The Prince fell in love, and the Princess awoke...
Somewhere far away otshumel hurricane.
Even the troops battle with the terrible returned...
The old king happiness joyful drunk.
And at sunrise dream weeping,
Birds are singing, and the trees are in bloom.
The sun shines in lace hiding...
I'm following the dream...
I sit, and by the hand timidly
'm drawing, t