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torstai 11. helmikuuta 2016

Swamp


This swamp hides a lot inside.
In the spring of moss melts
there will rise up
sinners sisters,
the sun warming
they become lively
as lizards.
Witty is your lucky lady,
maid of eternal dreams.
Spring rains wet the
fairies toes,
where the fire you run away?
A man like a gust of wind
Minute danced for us,
then called him
snow, and sleet.
I would not be
the hostess of the North of wild country.
I just wanted to Sampo alone
owns. Without Sampo,
and a man I where I stayed.



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