Poems in English

not all is measured by you
your silence so heavy and grey
for through the woods there is music
where crystalline streamlets play…

War slays the beautiful people,
The ones you see in a photo —
and can only sigh in wonder:
“Perfection exists in this world…”…

A golden fish lies in his hands,
His hands themselves are gold,
But his skin is scarred and dark as night,
Before he reached the quiet harbor,
Where he could cast his nets in peace,
The ruthless sun had burned it with its light…

The sun encounters permafrost, eternal and old,
Amazed: “Wait, what’s this nonsense, hold.
I am, after all, a star, and no matter how small,
Answer me now, look at me, heed my call…

From a fish’s point of view, water matters the most.
We are defective fish: in ice we are lost.
We need something open above us — be it blue, at least dull grey,
And if it is blue — let clouds drift along their way…

Stone, with his stone-hard hands,
Tenderly holds a crystal stone, understands…

My little fluffy pet is Anxiety.
On my shoulder, it sits and watches,
Stares unblinking far into the distance…

And yes, we’re alive — that quality’s ours,
Not theirs, the ones we so adore:
Transparent flame in our eyes that flowers,
And lines that make our spirits soar…

Humans have always adorned the tools of murder and slaughter:
See the inlay on the steel, the ripples like wind upon water?..

and to speak and to speak about love though the face is unseen through monitor’s cold gleam and glow
o my love, you must melt and must drift and must burn to the end, where beginnings repeat themselves ebb and flow…