With condescendence circumference selfishly once said to spiral:
"You are ridiculous and useless curve, my popularity is viral!"
So you, the poet, in vanity, being only with talent of your own bound,
Believe that center of the world you are, and all the rest rotates around.

Last night I had a dream that are together we again,
As it was long ago, as if we have never parted.
And beam of happiness rose up and darkness brightened,
And got illuminated soul, and went away sad pain.

The feelings were so sweet, as only could be in fairy tale endeavor,
I wished, in sleep, not to wake up, so they could stay forever.
Just for a moment dream of mine has looked so real, yet,
I sure knew that what I've seen I never will forget.

Be loved by you? - there is no chance, not even hope, precarious and shaky,
But I will face my fortune with a smile, you'll never know that I faked it.

Omar Khayyam observed that world is full of ignorance and evil.
Shakespeare confirmed that nothing changed in ages of medieval.
Five hundred years passed and I could sadly say:
Still ignorance and evil rule, they didn't go away.

In love the sky can't be distinguished from the land.
It feels like perfect storm when one into another blend.
With you, my dear beauty, when you are around,
I am climbing to the sky and loosing sense of ground.

I don't care whether wings of love are from white dove or darkest night black Raven.
For better or for worse, in earthly love we fly together straight to seventh heaven!
On berries ripeness in your garden look I so hypnotized,
There is no force in world to make me turn away my eyes.

And can't describe it neither poetry nor lean lowland of prose  
How's wonderful in bloom your blushing red lust thirsty rose!
I want to breathe aroma of your flower, being love sunk
And learn its taste inviting, teasing, sweet and drunk!

In element of water I was born, I know yet without use of divination fortune dice,
That heaven and the earth you are for me, with you I'll go to the Hell or Paradise!
You are the source of passion, which I feel, you are the magnet of my love desire.
The shackles of your charms I wear, break them not, regardless consequences dire.

The life of any human being is worthy of a picture,
It's truth with no deception, it's richer than book's fiction.
About grief, about joy and choices, not so simple...
There is a bit of saint in us, we all as well are sinful.
Until life is not finished, it's on its own rolling,
There is no story similar, its plot can not be stolen.
Life is unique and precious, can't be relived from scratch,
It runs like fairy tale from first page to last page.

As Khayyam in rubaiyat quite often used to say:
Here's the wine, so drink it up, let it make us play.
Don't break this fragile jug, which is made of clay,
Time will pass, and you too may return this way.