Стихи и рассказы из категории questions

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Who built Thebes of the seven gates
In the books you will find the names of kings
Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock
And Babylon, many times
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What do the roses do, mother,
Now that the summer's done
They lie in the bed that is hung with
And dream about the sun
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There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops makes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion, turning to waterfalls under our very eyes
—...
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Mother, when will my hair-braid grow
milk you said will make it grow,but still it remains so short
Mother when will my hair-braid growyou said like Bal it would be strong,his braid has grown fat and long,combing , braiding, bathing, dryi...
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Write me what you're wearing
Is it warm
Write me how you lie
Do you lie there softly
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Why did you tell me lies?
Why did you let me die?
Why there’s the biggest price
To love? Just tell me – why?
From where this desolation?

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