I wrote poems about you, the girl who precious to me,
who are so beautiful and smart,
only because, perhaps, someone else
was dearer to your heart...
I dedicated poems to you, and then burned them right there,
I lived and breathed by you — I noticed no one else.
You look through me with a slight sadness,
I'm just your friend,
perhaps, your best friend,
I'm your closest friend, but I love you!
I write poems about you, the one who laughs merrily,
who is so nice and fine,
only because,
perhaps, your heart beats
in unison with mine.
I dedicated poems to you, and then burned them right there,
I lived and breathed by you—I noticed no one else.
You look through me with a slight sadness,
I'm just your friend,
perhaps, your best friend,
I'm your closest friend, but I love you!
I wrote poems for you, who knows everything about me,
who never feels blue,
only because
my voice trembles with embarrassment
when I talk to you...
I dedicated poems to you, and then burned them right there,
I lived and breathed by you—I didn't notice anyone else.
You look through me with a slight sadness,
I'm just your friend,
perhaps, your best friend,
I'm your closest friend, but I love you!
I love you!
I love you!
Свидетельство о публикации №505613 от 24 ноября 2025 года