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Lenta na Vetru (Ribbon in the wind)

Ribbon in the wind

The wind has barely touched the flowers
Gardens are drowning in white cherries -
It’s time to lure the miracles
With bright ribbons in the hair.
It’s time to weave a word of power into a song -
For it to fly into the spring forest,
As a messenger of the wind answering the call of the river,
As a bird that flew off my hand.


With rainbow splashes, with thin ray
It will be the key to the hundreds of puzzles
The song that is sung in the morning,
Bright ribbon in the wind...
For song is to touch close hearts,
For bird is to return to green forest,
Like a banner of eternal summer again -
Bright ribbon - red blood...

Drink
Wild honey of the herbs
Flight of the wind...
My word is
Neither truth nor lie
When you know, you will understand,
When you understand, you will be gone,
Changing the last penny
On word

She sang about the sun, about the heaven
With a bright ribbon in her hair,
Yes, people passed the sentence:
Curse and fire for the witch.
But the song is stronger than curses:
The rain has opened the abyss of heaven.
In memory of unfulfilled fire -
Bright ribbon in the wind.


Drink
Wild honey of the herbs
Flight of the wind...
My word is
Neither truth nor lie
When you know, you will understand,
When you understand, you will be gone,
Changing the last penny
On word


Brightness often dooms the sentence. To be bright means to allow yourself a luxury, inaccessible to others, because they refuse it for the security reasons - the luxury of being yourself, but not whom they are trying to make you, whom it is accepted to be in the society that you live. In old times such people considered to be sorcerers and witches and they were burned at the stake, as happened to the heroine of our song. But it's not as easy as one would think though: if you and your word are one, sooner or later the word begins to work wonders. So the rain poured and put out the fire, and the girl was still alive. And still sings her songs of Might.


Contact: ksuhim@rambler.ru

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