"Дзинь" - прозвенела росинка.
Сонная синяя тишь.
Не залопочет осинка ,
И не зашепчет камыш.
Тишь.
И малыш, засыпая,
Видит волшебные сны.
Будто июль, уплывая,
Сделал ладью из луны.
Легкая лунная стружка
Тихо прилипла к сосне.
Теплая наша речушка
Чмокает сладко во сне.
```
Warm Stillness
"Jingle", - a dewdrop jingled.
Sleepy blue stillness.
No aspen will mutter a word,
No reed will wisper a word.
Stilness.
And the baby, falling asleep,
Is seeing wonderful dreams,
As if July, sailing away,
Turned the moon into his boat.
The light curve of the moon
Slightly stuck to the pine.
Our warm brook
Is squelching sweetly in her sleep.
```
It's a beautiful poem from my all-time favourite collection of children's poems (the name of that book was "The tomtit is having her birthday". Make me think back of childhood and also makes me feel a little sad (like in Anne, beautiful things always hurt a little), for only a little piece of summer is left before Autumn and August is never a very a hot month and begins to smell autumn and school. And also, Birthday away (and Birthdays are somewhat bittersweet themselves), nothing much to look forward to. And school on the 1st of September was never something I was looking forward too, indeed! (It was like going back to prison, even though I had good friends and teachers and was good at almost everything. It's just organized time I could never get into).
```
The painting belongs to some English pre-Raphaelite painters, but now I cannot remember to whom exactly.
