Gently, like the breath of an autumn evening,
Rain falls on old windows \u2013 and the heart
Trembles, like a string that knows only nostalgia.
The moon reads your name in the air, timidly,
And the night-flute pulls long, sorrowful notes.
The scent of lavender and tea burns in an empty chair,
And every impression is a leaf that dared not fall.
Oh, how quietly words tear, like wings,
When you want to say: \u201cStay,\u201d \u2013 but remain silent.
A tear flows across the lips and becomes a pearl of memory;
The song of the wind barely audibly strokes the weariness of the pillows.
And in that half-sleep, where memory is glass-like and transparent,
I see you returning \u2013 or is it only the heart?
But the music remains: thin, tart as wormwood,
And I listen to it, until nothing answers anymore.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Gently, like the breath of an autumn evening,Rain falls on old windows \u2013 and the heartTrembles, like a string that knows only nostalgia.The moon reads your name in the air, timidly,And the night-flute pulls long, sorrowful notes.The scent of lavender and tea burns in an empty chair,And every impression is a leaf that dared not […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[55],"tags":[117,120],"zbirnyk":[],"class_list":["post-4409","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-loss","tag-memory"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n