Max Fomitchev-Zamilov, Poetry

Максим Фомичёв-Замилов, поэзия

When you feel blue
Give me your hand.
You need a friend, don’t you?
I will take you to the top of a mountain
Where the snow is bright and the air is cool.

When you feel blue
Give me your hand.
And I will take you to a field
Full of the song of a lark, where the flowers bloom.

When you feel blue –
Ask me,
And I will tell you how the dreams are born,
How they die,
And how silly the days change one another.

When you feel blue –
Let me look into your eyes
So I could see your soul
And you could see mine,
And I could feel the warmth of your body,
The nakedness of your skin.

When you feel blue,
All you have to do is decide!
And we shall die together
And be reborn
As two birds
That will soar forever beneath the clouds.

When you feel blue –
Give me your hand.
The pages of our lives are not yet fully written,
Although at times they look like they have more ink than words.
But this is not so.
The words are not what we have written.
The words are what is not spoken.
It is what we feel
When my lips are lost in your hair,
When the bees fall dead in front of the window,
When it rains,
When a child is crying,
When the sunrise is laughing.

We do not need words when we understand each other.

When you feel blue –
Give me your hand.
You need a friend, don’t you?

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