Give me as a present your sincerity.
This only… don’t want anything else,
As it will painted grey
the everyday, dull that plaguing eyes.
You know, do not have stringth to go sometimes,
Just want to stand for a while quietly,
Then to penetrate into your eyes,
I will feel comfort in the heart…
There living that sincerity,
and without it, life without wings,
And without it, the dampness, in the heart.
I wouldn’t fly without it…
Give me as a present your sincerity,
I could hide in it off the rain.
That the wings weren’t get wet,
Wingsless, not able to fly.
Athor: Galyna Brytan, Lviv, Ukraine.
Translated to English by : Ivan Kovalenko, Wellington, New Zealand.