How many times, baby, I remember,
The ice ocean appears to me before:
On the white vault a star does not look,
Far away the yellow moon - a spot;
And over thousands of fast waves
A bird floats with wings,
When her first mate was gone
With a whole bunch of birds, losing the sunset.
She dropped hers after suffering,
It does not even look bad now, not well ... it does not die,
Visiting for a moment with the years back.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
We are still farther away from both,
Increasingly more and more secure and frosty,
When you lose in the eternal morning.
Love poetry
Mihai Eminescu
very nice photo my friend really like your photo Beautiful natural panorama I like your post and upvot @ovyhossain
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