Ветром сорванные сучья - в кучу. Разлучил -...

In the wind, torn branches - in a heap.
Separated - not distinguishing - a case.
I wonder - a ban, I know.
But I, knowing about the ban, will guess ...
Once the tears to the eyes refuse
A kiss doesn't bring healing
So the stars are painted, the stargazer
Set them to heaven will be himself.
Just a cigarette twist request:
Stones cry, over the ages of mourning
I'll whisper in the gap between them what I want
Make yourself forever.
You have one thousand and one.
I would kill anyone, but
the scimitar burned his hand and froze.
And the hieroglyph of your beauty
read not given.
Here is such a cut of the eyes,
Here is such an eyebrow bend,
The shape of the lips and you walk, infection
tied to her.
And the trembling that runs over the bones - crystal sparks,
dissolving in the blood
and the blood becomes frantic, and sings of love.
And I don’t feel like writing poetry about her,
because a lie
because poetry is just not to writhe in flour,
when night
or day
or hour
without her...
I don't know any other bodies
those that glow in the dark.
Only her one -
she skinned the moon.

Dmitry Bozin