Igor Marinovsky

Golden autumn evening is a romantic time of jocund memories and lovely hopes of summer....

I am going on the path among fields. The clear friendly sky smiles to me and I inhale the fragrance of the buckwheat....

I love you, tiny wonderful flower of the arid land. You grow among thorns. The wind scorches you and the heat of the sun is your torment. But you are alive in spite of everything because your aspirations to live nothing can overcome!...

The moon is a clandestine maiden of night that sits on the stool of dusky sleepy spirit....

You are a charming wild flower growing in the crevice of old mountain. You are beautiful rose in the valley of dreams. You are sweet mystery and open truth....