The harvest time is now near…
Ripe fruit are hanging from the tree
In hands of your entirely giving
Themselves, so generous, as can be.
With yellow wax shine garden pears.
And apples're burning like the flame.
They turn to me and soul's embarrassed,
They now have so much to tell
About something long-awaiting,
About something so concealed,
About the endless, never fading
About life, about myself…
I fell the rhythm of universe
And the love's essence so inmost…
The beauty has become my faith:
My pray to Her is endless.
It is for Her I'll put on chains
And step on pilgrim's path
It's before Her on my knees I'll bow
At Her virtuous holy things,
Where the clearest water's falling down
With sagebrush like honey, bitter-sweet,
Where lilies gleam so white, so far away,
The haystacks smell so fine
Yes, beauty is my faith
And the Woman is divine!
All worship is entirely for her,
None kind of beauty is inmost that more!
This is secret, so luring and burning
This is marvelous centuple oval
This is tender and ardent smile,
Which, due to fate's inconceivable turnings
Tempting us with the lust that still lasts
Curing us as a goblet of balm
In the soul tender flowing chant
The concord of the skies consonance:
Carefully drafted, sculpted and carved
Some greatest artist, with true inspiration
All this heavenly grace incarnation
In each women I hoped to find
All this grace for entire immersion
In Love's light, in my inner devotion!
From lovely lips reproach's not a reproach
Although it hurts more painfully and deeper.
But bitter words for you I will not search
And hit the target with my shot so meanly.
Hard feelings will not shade my eyes.
And anger won't take unawares my mind.
My heart won't be deceived with tone hostile
Won't quench in soul the love song sound.
I used to be much easier to hurt
But since that time I things have changed a lot
God give the blessing for the ones in love
And teach them to forgive, and seek forgiveness!
For penance isn't derogation, is this?
Thus faith expects the blessing from above…
To feel eventually love's fever
In all your blood, in all your cells,
So, that you soul's entirely speechless
And take the life as gift you can't expel
To give yourself completely in response
Like Romeo and Juliette, every instant
Trouveres, poets and you, minstrels!
Your love was strong without repose
Shakespeare, Ronsard, Petrarka, Dante
How wonderfully love was elegized
Like Rafael's' divine and pure art
Talent of Love, so high and so sacred
Oh, Lord, just give me such a blessing
In love with love to bring Her my confessing!
And here I see the large tenth-bared jaw…
Oh, how such a vision is disgusting
Here's a though, inside my mind it grows
That «power» is the predator, so lusty.
When torturing of victims, strength and power,
Still hiding beast's appearance under guise
It, even if at scandalous expiry
It keeps on stealing, keeps on telling lies.
And there is no darker deed than this
And there is the greatest of misfortunes
More scary than the virus, is the greed
Of power, in its uncontrolled disorder.
The power rests on mud and blood
And only power of love
I praise…
The theme of love and jealousy is old:
It goes back to Adam and Eve.
In every home this drama is perceived.
And victims grind by these millstones…
The jealous one himself is cause of torment
And even crown will not keep him still
Desdemona with no guilt was killed,
Though she was faithful to the great extent.
She closes the vicious circle of the love
Her name is written as the love's true sister.
But as her brother iron there glistered —
So many hands that love has stained with blood!
But no, of love I have another vision:
The one I love, I trust with no excision!
Love can't be jealous, as the passion can:
The passions puts the hidden traps
To which fall even those experienced
With words of Iago, don't lie, don't condemn!
Oh jealousy, you choose your prey from us
And our hearts are painful and so hurt,
You play the drum in rage, but now stop,
Don't hurt the feeling by absurd mistrust
The passion is the despot, so merciless
No tyranny, which can be more wayward
But love is balm, the therapy and ward
Of all the soul's wounds, of all the turbulence,
The Love is graceful, kind, but the most upheaval
Brings jealousy, much envy and much evil.
The love is free, such is its essence
When flows, even stones break:
The wall destroys and the defences:
No shield is left for me to take!
I wanted to erase her features
And to forget… But then my heart
Will ache and will cry out loud
Nostalgia, the ghostly creature!
I can't find help in the oblivion,
By which I tried (while it was trifle)
To hide the feeling, to forget… —
But I give up and here's my chest:
Well. Love is just a worthy rival
To end my life, so sad, so trivial.
Oh, can my affection be a sin
When deep in love I lose myself
No sinner is who duff and dumb
Who cannot love and cannot feel
Who laughs at highest words of love
Who dear lady's eyes dislikes
And lips of hers is not enjoying
Who doesn't know the love's folly
That one just lives in vain his life.
And I recall now and again
The Romeo and Juliette story
These children's love was so involving
And even death had brought them fame
I drink a toast to loving souls
Indifference is the greatest fault…
Yes. Cupid shoots so randomly, but sure
Defeating, dazzling everyone,
Love potion's easy to be done:
For youngster and for someone mature,
For nun, for gigolo, no matter
They all will suffer passion's pricks
But the love's suit… Here's nothing better:
And haute couture's extremely cheap!
Cupid, your genre is operetta.
You shoot the movies bright and splendid,
You are the favourite of all ladies:
Life's grey with you, and I don't flatter!
And I'm subject to passion too
I fell in love, so now I do…
To you, oh, ladies, whom I loved
All songs and sonnets're dedicated
You're muses who inspire all created
And Lord had sent me blessing from above.
Yes, I was dumb, then fire of affection
Revoked the answer in my soul
So Earth before the dawn, so still, it is just waiting
But with the first ray clamour will unroll
Since then the Love's my genius and judge
And beauty is my highest mentor
And soul of mine, the humble shelter
Is filled with feeling, I can't hide,
I sing the praise, but not in vain
Each line is warmed with loving flame!
Oh, that's indeed is a kind of torture
The bow touches vibrant chords…
The violinist's young, but each accord
Resounds like a voice of fortune.
And gently violin surrenders
And he is ardent, as a hun
And wise, just like the runes creator.
Soul, like a snail, went to the sun
And opens up towards the music
And, trembles like a singing violin,
The spell of music make her sing
She soared, clear and illusive
In glowing worlds, so high above
When filled with miracle of love…
These autumn flowers in vase:
Bright asters, roses, bunch of cranesbill…
I give respect to nature thus —
Which joins forms and author's will.
I make attempt in every phrase
To surface facets so precise,
That filigree would not entice
Won't be deceptive as the strase.
So that like diamond, perfect sense,
Was clear and concise, not flabby,
And sacred as the walls of abbey…
Oh Lord, give me talent and such strength
To vent the soul enchanted cry!
So lucid to all passing by…
I crave to know all people as the dearest ones
To realize the events inner wheels
To see effect and reason, evident and clear:
I want to be, more sapient and wise.
Absurd's the monster, scariest of all!
…And due to it men draw their swords —
Because of it all funeral and grief,
And people are more fierce the beasts!
And cry of woe is now in vain,
No word can ever reach their ears:
Cause now's deafness for our souls to tear!
Misunderstanding is the endless chain…
And I grew week before the locked front door…
But love had found the key so long ago!
There's time for everything and turn:
And summer follows the spring's route,
As night's successor, comes the dawn
And the ovary becomes the fruit.
The clocks tick on, and thus each moment,
Dictates us sequence of the lines.
And words are linked within the sonnet.
And generations grow and die.
Haste is the ghostly, bad mistake
And lingering is just a guilt.
And every failure and success:
As a pirouette on sandy brink
But breaking all the terms and frames,
Love definitely will come in May!
Love is a battle without mercy
Without tears of compassion.
Intrigues, snaring, fire of passion… —
Through all the times, in all the verses.
During the starry sleepless nights,
The serenades are sung for Her.
But under cloak the blade does blur
Blood flows as scarlet as the wine.
The Love, the treachery's strong ally
And such al luring as naiads
Seduces us to escapades
And passion's cup becomes so dry
With no regard to young and senior…
But happy is the one, who did surrender!
Seems like the gift I hear your voice:
The art of note and speech around:
In Forerunner's mouth how did you sound!
How did you wake the hearts' rejoice!
And young and old were rise by feet,
And they were going under shells:
Rumor was like a furnace flames,
How did you kindle ardent heat!
The Christ, The Circe, Demosthenes,
Grand Opera, La Scala, Covent Garden…
The ship was lead right on the rigs so hardened,
When helmsman heard the Sirens' sing… —
You really have ambrosian treat!
But I love most your voice's being sweet…
My eyes! What's for your roaring crying?!
Why so much salt humidity in you?!
You didn't pass Butyrka, Gulags too…
Who is your punisher, who is defying?!
Oh, heart! Where do you rush tantivy?
By strike of sword it's felt such pain!
What kind of blood turns red… on paper's stain?
– Where is this dawdler doctor?! Hurry, do actively!
And why is my brain now so inflamed?
What woe does bother his poor mind?
His mind just cannot bear it, it's bind.
Like Hamlet I'm, by madness, tamed!
How can I overthrow tyranny power?!
That's what you've done to me – the fervor…
End of the battle, the fighting roar faded:
The last redoubts are yield to enemy —
Within some minutes everything was destined —
The scalade was so rampant and so dashing!
The hero fought with courage of the three
And being captured tried to break the tether:
His veins were swollen of such efforts! —
Such metaphors're tremendous as can be.
That's the result: defeated and so mean,
He was much calmer, than a little lamb:
Inside his nostrils they put rings
He went so humble behind them.
That one's insane, who once confronted feelings
I gave my all to you, no armour concealing…
The frantic flame was burning down
And fire tumbled as if in rage.
And not so less was all its power:
Each moment made it fade away.
As if a hungry wolf, it used to tear
All that it could get into its jaw,
And all was turning into smoke
With which the soul was seared…
Thus, everything burned down to ashes:
And there was left only some embers —
A gulp of water in the thimble:
Though ashes still so slightly glimmered…
I poked it – and it suddenly appeared:
The passion's burnt, but love is here
And poetry, and nature, and truelove… —
I have divided between you the year.
Look: all the words are feminine here:
For still with women I'm in love!
I'm serving them gratuitously:
I don't expect awards and otherness
Though, race female is such an abyss!
I'm ready sink into it happily:
To plunge in love, as to the pool, and then
To reach the shining, highest peaks
And languish with the timeless thirst…
This is the real lot for men!
No other greater thing! I've be won:
The rank «enamored» the highest one!
As witness love itself I call,
And I devote all thoughts to her alone,
I feel it in my heart and bones,
I live in world only her all!
Afloat she'll keep me,
The time I sink into her arms,
The time I step on the abyss's edge for harms
When live in vain and ditch my soul too dreamy…
I'll blissfully exchange for moment's love,
Those vain desires a ridiculous crowd
And to her knees ardently bowed,
And kissing her, and foot above…
As witness love itself I call,
I live in world only her all!
To go out dry of water:
It is not possible to play:
You have to pay for all this anyway
But you can't count the moves in advance like author.
What's at the door? – Touch it, come in!
There someone's waiting, waiting, will not wait!
There happiness like bird is beating in the grate!
Just go away, away… – that voice's whispering.
Should you have something or shouldn't worry?
For possession itas loss, which you can see…
So are you ready pay such fee?! —
To mad and dare you're to hurry!
Let for love reward the pain of separation:
For moment's love, I'll take all tribulations!
Neither sparkle's jewels' glows:
Emerald, brilliant and sapphire;
Nor masters' diligent labor in fire,
Weaving miracle clothes;
Or neither oil of all sorts' rubbing,
Which gives the tenderness to skin;
No couturier's famous work must be,
Nor hairdressers' tryings;
Nor bathing in the pink bathtub
Among the petals carnations' and roses'
And neither spirits any narcosis,
Nor brow's being arched and dub —
Do not multiply so fascinating
Like look that's Love's pacification!
Everything that a child asks for, being shoveling,
For what the coquette gives feigning game,
And anything to have for someone is not shame
That's suddenly and rashly costs propelling,
What's just a whim for man's being rich,
And any vain and absurd whim,
And any shameful sinful seem
(For what it's must to spend for doctor's speech),
Any desires, furious agility, it means,
And career, deal, success and treason —
Everything on earth has its price and reason:
For money you can buy all things…
But nightingales don't sing for money:
And you can't buy true love's the moment honey!
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