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 want emptiness...

* * *

I want emptiness,
I want silence.
What is the dreams?
These are lunar dreams.

I will sit down near a fire
And hands I will take
Sparks of malicious morning
And former spring,

I will rake pieces of coal
Also will cover me
The novel world
Gold fire.

1993

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