Сборник стихов на английском

Built brick by brick, into the clouds yet another stair.

If bricks were money, then I think I’d be a billionaire.

I’m not a builder, not a king, and not a millionaire,

But all I know is that this thing between us cannot wear and tear.

The thing, the fabric of our lives, I feel it stretching here and there.

It’s all around me, I am rolled inside it, stunned as if it were a snare.

It’s more than love that trapped me, caught me absolutely unaware.

I feel its presence even with you far away, it can be seen from anywhere.

As though it were mature night giving a rise to a full moon with its white flare,

It shines my way, it makes me feel, it lets me see through darkness, bless the glare!

So godlike you are that I’m tempted in your honor to address a prayer.

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