* * * 92 * * *
Бубенцы росы
звенят,
ветер хлопает
в ладоши,
фильм о пуле
смертью снят,
гули-гули,
фильм хороший,
только нет в живых
ребят.
* * * 92 * * *
The dew bells
are ringing;
the wind flaps,
claps.
A death-by-bullet
movie is made;
ghouls, ghouls.
The movie is good,
but none of the guys
remain alive.
In the cover letter to the translated poetry, Sheppard noted:
“… I attach a new version of the June-August Blackout poems that includes number 92, the latest.
Do let me know if I have misunderstood something. This is a poem of a real genius. What a great talent Alexander has.
I hope all is well with you and Alexander.”
* * *Cyrillic script of sandsin the sand clockis similarto the barkhans ,dunes,ridgesand evento the…
*** I dreamed of your eyes - islands of loneliness in the ocean of human…
While night declaims, essential peacefully melts, dissolves, disappears in the cloudless air of life-giving oblivion.…
*** The last city, of the last star. Holidays of happiness. Years of doubt, years…
*** Childhood – flower pollen, garden of time is fading, prairie of expectations, silk grass,…