ШКОЛА Учитель Кто замуж выходит за ветер? Ребенок...

SCHOOL

Teacher

Who is getting married?
for the wind?

Child

Mistress of all desires
in the world.

Teacher

What gives her to the wedding
wind?

Child

Gold swirls
and maps of all countries in the world.

Teacher

And what does she give him?

Child

She lets the wind in her heart.

Teacher

Say her name.

Child

Her name is kept secret.
(Outside the school window is a starry canopy.)

Tranquility

Owl
tired of thinking
rubs glasses
with a sigh
firefly
roll head over heels downhill
falling stars
flicker.
And an eagle owl, chuckling, flaps its wings
and dreaming of something.

HIVE

We lived in the combs
glass
hive, air hive!
We kissed
through the glass.

Wonderful prison
whose gates are
moon!

A POET ASKS HIS LOVE TO WRITE HIM TO HIM

Love is deep, like death, like spring,
I wait in vain for letters and decisions;
the flower has withered, and there is no more doubt:
living losing yourself in you is unbearable.

Immortal air. The stone is hard, inert
He does not know and does not shade.
No need for the heart for his struggles
ice honey, - the moon watered pine trees for them.

I suffered you. Dissecting veins
in battle doves with a tiger, a snake with flowers,
I blew your camp instantly with blood.

Fill my wild ravings with words
or let me live in a night of selflessness
in the night of the soul with unknown dreams.

QASIDA ABOUT GOLDEN GIRL

She froze in water -
and the body is golden
the backwater gilded.

Frogs and mud
scarecrow river bottom.
Nightingale sang air
and raved in white.
The night was melting in the fog
silver and light
beyond the bare hills
under the twilight wind.

And the girl sighed
over the white backwaters,
and the backwater was blazing.

The dawn burned clearly
chasing herds of cow
and dead died away
with wreaths at the head.
And the nightingales wept
with burning wings
and the girl is sad
the flame spilled out.

And the body is golden
white heron froze
over the golden water.

QASIDA ABOUT ROSE

The Rose,
already becoming unearthly
not looking for a morning glimpse -
I was looking for something else.

I didn’t crave light
I didn’t ask for darkness, nor heat
half sleep-half-wake line,
I was looking for something else.

The Rose,
freezing under the moon
I didn’t look for a rose in the sky -
I was looking for something else.

QASIDA ABOUT WOUNDED WATER

I want to go down deep into the well
I want to climb a steep staircase
to see the heart
stung by dark water.

Losing strength, raving boy
in a wreath of hoarfrost and blood.
Keys, wells and fountains
the blades crossed at the head.
About flash of passion, burst of blades,
about white death singing nightly!
Oh yellow dust of loose dawn
in the desert of heat!
Alone in the world raving boy
with the asleep city in the larynx.
Gluttonous slime conjured
dreamed fountains mumble.
Agony arched
and, straightening up, it got cold.
Entwined by two green rains
agony and body.

I want to go down deep into the well
and draw a thick potion of death,
and soak it with a mossy heart,
to find pierced by water ..

MADRIGAL TO THE CITY OF SANTIAGO

Rain is coming to Santiago
the heart is full of love.
White camellia in the sky
the sun glows.

Dozhlik goes to Santiago:
the nights are so dark.
Silver and dream herbs
face close the moon.

See the stones of the streets
thin crystal falls.
You see how the sea sends you
with wind and mist and sadness.

Your sea sends them to you
the sun of Santiago is forgotten;
only in the morning in my heart
a drop of rain rings.

WALZ ON THE BRANCHES

Time,
and two
and three -
the leaves flickered in the window.
A fish floats on the moon.
The river does not sleep
but centuries
the sea sings in a dream.
Forest
the funeral service of the princesses.
The darkness lit his candles.
The nun echoes in the hollow.
A girl is waiting on the wind.
Fir clinked with cones,
looking for a feathered trill.
But the nightingale was bleeding
in his melancholy sadness.
And it’s sadder for me
because once
and two
and three
leaves swam in the window.
And a violinist with a head of glass
and cardboard violin and haze,
and a candle of snow and gray hair
with the whole world
one on one.
Shadows of the dead and dumb marble!
Dawn winter anthill!
Somewhere the forest is praying
funeral princesses
somewhere honey on a flower.
Frogs in the river.
Dusk is approaching
in a laurel wreath.
Will the sky for the wind
high wattle
and persecuted branches
will dance on it
one by one
over the moon
and together
over the stream
and the three of us, and still apart,
to make marble sleep better.

LITTLE VIENNA WALZ

Ten girls ride Vienna.
Death is crying on the chest of the revelers
There is a forest of pigeon stuffed animals
and the dawn in antique darkness.
There are halls where hundreds of windows
and after them the trees of the compartment ...
Oh take this waltz
this waltz, bitten lips.

This waltz, this waltz,
full of death, prayer and guilt
where a wave plays with silks.

I love, I love, I love
i love you there on the moon
and with a withered book in the window,
and in a secluded nest of daisies,
and in that dance that the snail dreams of ...
So please the warmth
this waltz with a broken wing.

There are three mirrors in the Vienna Hall,
where your lips were echoed
Death plays the harpsichord
and dancing colors blue
and the gloss brings tears.
And above the city - the shadows of drunks ...
Oh take this waltz
in his arms a dying dance.

I love, I love, my miracle
I love you forever and everywhere
and on the roof, where I dream of childhood,
and when you raise your eyelashes
but for n