An early bird
Mercy me, let me go.
Do not tie my wounded wings,
I do not fly anymore.
My voice has broken with the pain.
My voice has turned into a wound.
I do not cry anymore.
Help me, wait!
Autumn.
Birds are flying to the South.
Only my heart was wrung with fear,
Loneliness- a friend of death.
1983
Memory
I want to be with you alone
To sit at the old house
That house stands by the river
Whose name is memory.
The print of your bare foot
Smells of last Summer's sun.
Where we wandered together
On the grass, not mown yet,
The skies were so blue,
Disappearing behind the gates.
And the voices were ringing,
That is all
I can remember.
And the days' accounting
Has come to an end
Like a flock of birds
All the days
Have gathered at my feet.
What do I treat them to?
No more lines are left...
1981
Doll
I am like a broken doll,
In my heart they've forgotten
To put a heart.
And left unwanted
In the gloomy corner.
I am like a broken doll,
Once I heard in the morning
A dream whispered quietly to me
"Dream, my dear, for long, long.
Years will pass,
And when you wake up,
People will want again
To take you in their arms,
Tuck you in and simply play,
And your heart will resume beating..."
It is just scaring to wait.
1983
The day is that far
The day is that far,
Like the night,
In a thunderstorm
when eyes
cannot see
the raindrops,
but catch them
with lips
on the porch of the house.
Like hands,
which cannot
find walls in the dark
And stumble into the doors on the day
That is so far...
1982
Fourteen Teardrops
Fourteen teardrops
are on your cheek.
Fourteen raindrops
on the wet glass.
Guess, you will not come-
guess or not
You will turn to the door,
farewell!
Farewell, my expectations,
our hands cannot be parted.
I do not like parting,
the circle of worry.
And there will be pain after the meeting,
which is destined not to happen.
Fourteen teardrops
you should not forget.
1982
I like the night for loneliness
I like the night for loneliness,
When with it alone
I speak of what
my destiny wishes
and does not.
I may think of the impossible,
that
there is no end to the night.
And I may believe in
happy days.
And I may cry endlessly.
There is no need to listen to reproachful words.
The stare of troubled eyes
There is no need to hide
behind a hand,
when it gets dark.
1982
Nightingale
I'll shield the heaviness of the day with my shoulder
and I'll leave you a nightingale.
and I'll leave you only the dark,
how else can I help you?
And if you wish, I'll give my heart -
Let my fate be shared.
Even time will die before morning.
In a hurry, instead of my heart
you took a watch.
Day has arrived.
Night, do not look for him.
1983
I want the good
How often
I catch squinting glances,
And sharp words
like arrows
pierce me.
I am asking you - listen!
You should not
kill in me
the minutes
of a child's dreams.
My day,
I so much want kindness
for everyone,
And even to those
who aim
at me.
1982
I fooled you
I fooled you,
That a moment can be eternity.
That with the birds' leaving
finishes the warmth
And forgotten by me a long time ago
magical night's spells,
with joy so near -
If you touch it by chance,
your hand
will lift the earthy globe
Have I fooled you?
No?
I gave you a secret
which is known
to me alone.
1983
And here a dedication to Nika by Michael David Coffey
For Nika Turbina
The light fell from the fifth balcony
Crushed and lonely in the summer dusk
The dust stirred and the echoes of the fall
Cried out in the agony of the ensuing silence
Here lies Nika, a child soul lost in the world
Still seeking a father, a hope
A nurturing hand to guide her from the torment
Of childhood dreams crushed like a flower
Strewn on concrete gray, the red blood of love
Forlorn, forgotten in memories of a child prodigy
Her poetry a first draft of anguish
Caught in spellbinding lyrics
The craft of a genius in the hand of a child
Such promise, such freshness, such craft
But what shadowy fear, the mystery of that tear
Shed by Nika Turbina, twenty seven and dead
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