Миклухо-маклай

My dream curve like a boomerang flies - whistles in a cool sky
flying and spinning clockwise .
A anemic light that creeps on the roof , just for his back.
Here's something snapped and crashed shattered ,
circles went over my head.
Flying colored boomerangs, spiral returned dreams.

And Mikluho at Maclay gold snuff-box , white boards under his feet lay .
And Pattle black Miklukhin salty wind Teasing.
They carry with them the green light floral breath Papuan land
The one that left only Maclay day and night just to ourselves .

Over black waves moon rises ,
Bronze ear earring draw it out .
Sky bite and Drink to the bottom
Cup of initiation into the islanders .

My world is clogged outside froze and gray, like rain in the woods, damp walls surrounded me .
I clicked beak stomp crab and , of course , there was one .
I keep trying to see through the glass seventh heaven , but I see only gray moss on the rocks.
When did you pick the nondescript this box , incidental my Aladdin ?

As I listened with half an ear and vpolglaza watch yellow leaf float away down the river .
Disappear overseas ship , mast only dissolve in the distance.
And what will Mikluho , and, of course , Maclay ? - Gold snuffbox in his hand ,
Seventh Heaven astern and seven steps to Papuan land.

Listen and count the number of times & quot; cuckoo & quot ;,
How much happiness to us counted
Pink Bird on a gray bitch
Lose your midst, and consider first.