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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To the soldier

In vanity infinite
And in fights fire –
In cross and counter
You remembered me?

Under attacks from back
In dishonest war —
Malicious, severe, hateful –
You thought of me?

Over grey-haired fields,
In heavens to height,
Near to the sun coals
You dreamt of me?

I do not know. I do not know!
I live, as in a dream.
About one I beg:
Do not forget about me!

02.07.

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