The suicide

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».

The suicide

Downwards, on long forty metres
Where the sight sinks in a gloom,
There, where snow and winds are mute –
There is no therefrom a way back.

Feeling cold marble,
Hearing a thaw sad knock.
It obediently and gauging shy,
Looking around, as a wolf, around.

And, having gone down in a crude hole,
It on rails has continued a way.
All forward – hopelessly-directly,
Not giving itself to curtail.

The roar tore silence to shreds,
Approaching structure and death.
Has turned back: he so wants:
There is no place to disappear, about what to regret?

The train rushes, mighty whisper
It is distributed at the feet.
And last sincere grumble:
Really could not excuse?

1994

Poems

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