Bunny

Summer evening
Print this
Last rays of sunset
Lie on the field of compressed rye.
A nap of a pink hug
Grass of an unlisted border.
No breeze, no cry of a bird,
Above the grove is the red disk of the moon,
And the song of the reaper fades away
In the evening silence.
Forget cares and sorrows,
Ruin without a goal on a horse
In the fog and in the meadow distance,
Towards the night and the moon!