Boris Red. (№ 270891)

New year. The stars in the sky,
as the crystal. Clean, frosty.
Snow fragrant as the Mandarin
Golden. And that one with the moon
similar. Go for a walk with me?
If not, then I am one.
How can we frost
to scare? Swallow the tears
along the road lights,
like children, life in the quarrel.
Oh, don't you see? The grief -
you squinted look.
Only at night Christmas,
my friend, breathe freely,
do you agree? Just
we will go along the streets of snow,
infinitely long, gentle.
Will come in vintage Park.
There's like a fairy tale: lead the beasts
dance - at least
I think so - around
tree. Squirrels-toys
on the branches. Come on, girlfriend.
Smile, my dear friend.