girl death

The moon bathed the cold parquet floor Milky and smooth wave. Pressing a bouquet to my hot cheek, I was dozing sweetly under the moon.

I am doubly disturbed by radiance and sleep, I opened my sleepy eyes, And the girl-death leaned towards me, Like a pink angel without wings.

A medallion trembles on a thin neck, A blush flows down her cheeks, And you can see she was running: a little dusty Her blue shoe.

Intricate pattern of golden fringe, There is a turquoise thread in the curls. "You are a little boy, I am a girl: we We'll be naughty on the way.

Put on (you are a knight) my lace scarf! " I silently handed her a bouquet… Milky and smooth, cold wave The moon washed the parquet floor.