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 like

I like under your eyelashes
To see dark blue grief and grief:
In them painfully tenderness will dream me
Or forces the distance will reveal.
I like under your palms
To feel and zhelane, and fear,
To be in a vice of your roughness caught
Or in tenderness to float clouds.

You caress as a wind invisible,
You excite as stupefying poppy.
I like, my Pleasure to like you
And it is not important, probably, as.

2001

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15.02.2007 10:52 very beautiful poem... Has inside responded... Both grief, and pleasure... And Love.


07.09.2007 23:35 So it is simple and so it is correct, easy and difficult at the same time...
natalija


© Mashkova Irina Vladimirovna, 2007
info@irina.freetzi.com

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