В колонках играет - Сектор газа - твой звонок
Настроение сейчас - романтическое
It swept, it swept on all the eart,
At very turning,
A candle on the table flade,
A candle, burning.
Like swarms of midges to a flame
In summer weather,
Snowflakes flew up forwards the pane
In flocks together.
Snow moulded arrows, ring and stars
The pane a donning,
A candel on the table shone,
A candle, burning.
Entangle shadows spread accross
The flickering ceiling
Entangle arms, entangle legs
And doom, and feeling.
And with athud against the floor
The shoes come falling,
And drops of molten candle wax
Like tears were rolling.
And all was last in snow mist,
Grey-white and bluring.
A candle on the table stood,
A candle, burning.
The flame was trembling in the draught,
Heat of temtation,
In lifted up two crossing winds
As of an Angel.
In February the snow-storm swept,
Each time returning.
A candle on the table wept,
A candle, burning.
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за ошибки не ругать, писала по-памяти =о)
