Lost somewhere in the translations,
I am looking for a solution, not an explanation,
But the time in the book is folded makes
I realized that I don't live here ...

And maybe this is the truth,
A lie has become our habit, for poems is wide and deep.
And we overcome that right. Sprint
we don't have time ...

My soul is jealous of the flowers
only bloom for one day and then fade away,
Logically for someday
as if numbers are defining life.

A rose,
lay motionless under the river
And the love opened the book
until my echo becames flesh.
In the dark nights,
the stars coming
Your name resounded far away
A rose,
lay motionless in the dark night
if you don't awakens
I will leave my heart cold by your side.

Cold January. Heated furnace.

And you, my dear, refuse to sleep.

I think of you.

And lights across the window sweep,

And droplets freeze upon its surface.

My eyes meet yours. We dim the lights.

And suddenly, as one, we’re breathing

My hands, around you, interweaving,

I recollect the gone by nights.

My heart is burning, raging wild.

You place, your hand upon my chest.

Confess, softly whisper, “child...”

Only the silence when I can’t deny it.

Waving a flag on the battlefield,
Your beautiful hair in memory.

In your body burning as I need light
Your cheek from the pink flame.
Every time I think of you,
I was shaking again, I couldn't see it.
I fill the ashes in every letters, these
kiss, that thing burned into me.
Words I could not find to write for you
has been buried for centuries in solitude.
Crumbling thoughts falling,
in the fire of silence.
Let someone came, my heart
and watch me in the dust.
I will not bury any of your breath,
in my arms I will smother the pulse ...
                 Dead, breathless, with my soul
to give and take my life.

I am invisible, hidden in an inner calm, as a flock of flamingos flying in the light and faded in the mist.

Everything you did for me is smile,
My veins feel you complete me,
Moments whisper I kiss your soft lips,
And my soul flying to heaven.

Without a voice,
she remembered everything she had forgotten,
both old things & secret, and dreamy.
Libra is her lips squeezed tightly
when she kissed and took his soul.

On the crowded street in holiday day
The day she met him.
She remember she invited him to celebrate
The day people waving flags,
run, laugh ...
all day up and down
marching friends.

Because it was dusk,
she suggest staying at home
to continue the celebration.
It was accepted.
They were celebrate homeland until morning.

The morning has gone,
He left, and he found her again
on Gorky street from the beginning
“My homeland”, He said,
“I need you”
and “I love you”.
“Yes”, She said
“I'm ready in every sacrifice "
And then
they get married.

Time passed, he was disappeared.
She always finding him
on the same path.
He never remembered her in the morning.
Only in the evening, like midnight
she was worried,
she sleep one bed in her arms
He still left
more and more ...

At least that's ways he appearance
when she was over years
She quit looking for him.
Waited him in the darkness alone, to look
He also stopped lying down
every night ...

And one night he never go home again ..
She did not find out when the door opened ...
Then she closed the door.
She stand before her whole life
a dream of the past, forgotten dreams ...
She tired to cry on her knees,
She stepped into the chest and locked it.

Please let the music lead you.
don't ask, don't talk
turn your head on your chest and listen ...
Let the melody .. the notes ... guide your steps.
Breathe in ... Listen ... turn on me .... feel it.

In the deep river the notes lead us passionately ..
Don't be afraid .. let it .. swirl .. leaves we are ...
Where the boy threw one on top of the other ..
he has no power to divide the river ...
so it sounds like hell on me ... he can't ...

let's climb beloved drip by the rain
until the black clouds .. higher up to we stand ...
taller than thunder, in the stars in between ...
I will decorate a meteor in your hair .. sun in your ******* ..
In the galaxy of your body I will discover the earth ...

Exiled to paradise, my eyes, to your eyes to live.
Exiled in my love, to give birth to the Full Moon ...
with silver threads my dreams to be around you ...
East and West, Day and night ... Heaven and Earth ...
My breath, my soul, my sweet dream ...

Listen ... turn on me and listen.

Silence,
   Resistance,
   And sound
   within me it is still.

   Lurking ...
   Keep safe

   Silence.
   Life is a bewilderment,
   helplessness itself.

   Silence.
   A prayer

Love comes to everyone in many times, many different ways. For those who have been loved, love lives forever …

My darkest art is different shades of the same color.

My love, my passion, my hands

    ... my darkness, my past, my tears

The flames were extinguished after night storm, leaving only ashes and smells of smoke.

The melancholy landscape
in hollow anger
in crystal glasses,
the faint stench of sigh.

Cigarette smoke is waiting
dreams off,
and it's doors close
Looks right.

At the scattered desk
platinum sheet,
broken windows
by the familiar winds.

Poisoning in the chest
every breath and pain
gray sold out
for other behavior

But you close your eyes
and the mind is sleeping,
Moon will not moonlight
get out of the way

The light is blown in the dark,
lure opens the charm
hugging thoughts
with lovers

That is the shadow of the times
and one day in this life,
make sad eyes
forget in the morning.

I’m from...
I’m from the Volga, serene and majestic
from the hands of the clocks that were moving too slow,
from the grip of the woman that was holding my hand,
from the innocent glance, from the dirt on the asphalt.
From Lenin, Karl Marx, Nietzsche,
from Pushkin, Okudzhava, Brodsky and Mayakovsky,
from the dust on the bookshelves turned gold in the light,
and the country that nursed me that dissolved in my sight.
From the triples threat stance: pass, shoot and attack
from the bully that tested my patience
from the sounds that blasted from the radio station
from the college where I searched for my place
from the choices I’ve made and felt no regret
from cigarette smoke that dissolved in the night
to discipline to write my thoughts
from the house I loved and the rural towns I left,
from the image I saw when I looked at myself,
from Emma to Lazarus, from our sunset gates shall stand
to the moment where everything froze in suspense.
And so, gentle reader, enjoy
And welcome to my original.

My goodness, my divine is her soul. My mundane madness tends to the death of the soul.

Poets and writers are stricken with poverty.
Modernism is all about the profits.
I’ve sold my soul and blood
And still my name remains unmentioned.

I wasted my nights writing;
till there was no lead in the pen
when I started reading my verses,
I imagined myself in a large auditorium,
in front of a single person.
because I wanted to make her love me.
With her bottomless loving eyes
as she refused to give it up willingly,
So I wasted my nights writing;
I didn’t know how to love her.

Neither side won,
neither side lost.
How many people are there
whose wishes have been so answered?
Voters like me who seemed to have had their way,
Sit down, ******,
pack your bags
and prepare to depart the Oval Office.
The future is ours.

But the hour comes and it’s night, I find to a quiet corner to hear myself reason, think to write — a sort of secret passion.

In your heart, in my heart
I had sung an ancient song to you.
And then I wrote in blood, within my soul. Death is but a wisp of shadow,
where no one is.
O Lady,
awake, awake...

The best place for writing poetry is sit by a river.
especially when leaving a loved one,
if you know she’ll go back there eventually,
in some week, in a month, or a year,  you would be able
to write with a loudest mind
but you must
know you’ll never see her,
and so it’ll be merely a monologue

Begin the poem with separation,
writing,
selflessly giving it everything in you
out of selfishness, out of need for sympathy.

Power is power,
War is cruelty,
Honesty and determination.
Who can refine it when the guns begin.
I knew what a sweat blood it was,
The heartlessness of ideas,
and we are here is beyond history and hurt.
Look, the hostile world
while all flee in terror.

The careless words of the ebony curtain,
the harmony of the day and night buzzed me.
A song of life, that you hear touching your wrist,
hugging your throat for lack, when my head gently leans to your shoulder.
The dance is based on the sound of a voice with a beat,
a bed, crawling and revealing the beauty of a naked soul.
Sunbeams, kisses.
At times like these, the day is eager to come and
the night doesn’t want to leave …. The same dreams,
in the same arms. Time and times is unfaithful.
And this ours body, entrusted to the sacred fire.

A lot of things want to leave in her arms, but it is time for my waves to go to it is roots. Safe and sweetness ... That is too much to taste her kisses.