* * *
Before the beginning of beginnings clumsy Virgil
to all poets, born in vain,
God knows why bequeathed hopeless
sadness of his genial creations.
* * *
Silence like a silence,
silent, forgotten, waiting for the call,
it is, like a bent willow,
that leaned over the water
in its thoughtful greatness,
and voices, like childish birds
with incredible simplicity
rankle it – what’s wrong with you?
* * *
One insists,
that all this is a lie,
other insists,
that this is very strange,
but I’ve seen myself,
like early morning
the crows pecked
eyes of the dew.
English translation of Oleksandr Korotko’s "Moon Boy" has become a literary discovery for students of…
* * * Pre-war summer of booksellers. Time has passed, and a happy life has…
The long, lonely streets of time - manic and tragic with chimes with chimes beating…
* * * Prediction as prayer - white magic rebellion over the madness of black…
Is it possible to know oneself to such depths where the light of knowledge of…
* * * Fraternisation of the Third Rome with the second Babylon-- Sodom and Gomorrah.…