***
The last city,
of the last star.
Holidays of happiness.
Years of doubt,
years of silence.
You at the read night
are begging
for salvation,
like for alms,
with trembling eyelids
of wounded streets,
following the trail
of mysterious truths
of Motherland voices –
horseshoes of hope,
living on the slopes
of cold tears’
frantic pity.
Translated by Natalia Ogienko.
* * * 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.…
Destiny, change the record. Our traitor boys have enough black things to do without you.…