Summer night

Bitter scent of flowers
In the morning fog.
I breathe and so bitterly
For some reason it will become, ..
I'm standing in the meadow.
What do I mean in life?
I'll fall into the wet grass
And I will cry bitterly!
The inevitability of these tears
Rock has long outlined ...
I would fall among the birches.
Where the fog is so bright
And hug the birch trunk,
And pressing tightly.
It is incomprehensible to understand.
An unknown world to embrace
Among the sweet birches ...

Garasimova Tatiana.