Boredom

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».

Boredom

In my house there lives boredom,
In my heart force rages.
Emptiness is only a flour,
And rest – only its symbol.

Year is lived – as was gone in a chasm
Neither people, nor times light.
If you are happy – there is no song,
The chain is days fluent.

In a head there is no storm more,
The trembling dies in a breast.
More nymphs are not present and there are no furies.
In that soul, that hardly decays.

1997

Poems

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