Another day, sailing into the distance,
Carrying away all this nightmare with it.
We wait for the moon – the sun of our nights:
Perhaps its light will make us feel warmer...
The bottle is empty – we’re drunk once again,
Drunk on wine, though love once intoxicated us.
And we’re all so tired of this war,
Yet we crave the freedom of freedoms...
Wine is poured into our glasses,
But remember how good it used to be?
We all once wrote poems about love,
But now… we don’t have that many words left...
Soon the night will end, and day will flow again,
As if there were never those stars or that moon,
As if that mad love never existed,
And as if she’ll never come here again...
And I’ll remain alone among all these days
Sailing into the distance, carrying away with them
All the brightest thoughts of her:
This is how love dies...
Another day
© Copyright: Сергей Стецко, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №225101501137
Свидетельство о публикации №225101501137
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