Snow on the roof
28 January 2007
Snow on the roof of the House of Culture,
nobody sings under it today.
The stage is cold, the curtain is stiff.
But under the curtain, in the dark,
the old komuz sleeps without dreams
and waits for the first warm hands.
nobody sings under it today.
The stage is cold, the curtain is stiff.
But under the curtain, in the dark,
the old komuz sleeps without dreams
and waits for the first warm hands.
1 Comment
My mother used to dance on that stage. Thank you for the poem, ata.
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