

Letters To The Wind

when it's morning 
when everything is quiet
 when dawn I write letters to the wind on books 

When that day begins, the postman-sun will find him, give him all my dreams 
I will wait for it, I will hope to write new ones. 

And again evening, 
and again fatigue, 
so inappropriate and so familiar
 letters to the wind lie on books and on lecterns 


where is my dream 
where is my hope 
all I did not have time for 
Аnd what I dream of. 
I feel like it's well know him . 
That's why I know for sure, words are for the wind. The sun follows the wind. But personally only letters to Him.

Alexey Andreiev