I again, I always at the crossroads...

Poems

The poem always was for me the form of expression of feelings. In two-three stanzas finds room much – the overflowing emotions asking on will of thought, impetuous passion. Not having possibility to give vent to this all on a paper, for a long time would descend suma from an overabundance of feelings. And so – anything, it was possible to consult. Improbably it would be desirable, not spending, certainly, not deserved analogies to repeat thereupon Sergey Yesenin's words: «as to other autobiographical data, - they in my verses».

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I again, I always at the crossroads.
To me calm on heart as a knife –
Both scrapes, and scratches. Stirs up
From rest. Also you will not disassemble
Where pleasure, and where – an underworld.
Where art, and where – vanity.
And melancholy, this old svodnja,
With poor heart plays, joking:
That in fire of one it will throw,
That to another in a teeth will bring,
That at the third favour excuse.
That so gives to the fourth.
And, having wallowed in lack of will bljadstve,
Having given away the life in parts,
I am lost in perversity a kingdom -
I sell the soul to devils.

2005

31.03.2007 12:19 super! In general all verses so are close to me! I will save them necessarily and I will be perechityva!

Oksana

Poems

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