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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Than you can live the unfortunate?

* * *

Than you can live the unfortunate?
What in twenty is silly without a measure?
That your days are rainy
Also the Chimera reigns over all.

What have you found, poor?
The plan for five decades,
One hundred thousand, belief in the God
Or a star, what eternally shines?

Where aim yours, disdained?
In a heap of money, change of masks,
In feeling light-unforgettable
In new shine of old paints?

It is all ridiculously and small,
Not zanjatno, not beautifully.
It – as if with a life the transaction:
It is necessary? There will be I happy.

1994

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