Rus Articles Journal

VERSES of the DERELICT

* * *

Settled

Bothered to execute the poet - constantly sings:

prevents to increase Fat - it

Put sweet as if honey.

It is locked in a chamber close, dark,

Continues to compose verses -

Invariable and irrepressible

In a grid of black agonal melancholy.

And to it gold, shine -

That to them walls? - the worlds,

MiG of life descend having filled with breath

of Perfection, but not game.

What to the poet your decision, Kolya`s

itself will be dissolved in verses?

I shines over the world a bowl

of the Truth of the truths about immortal words.

To the TEMPLE THICK Bolkonsky with Pierre tells

,

Suffering and not accepting

the Reality that sparkling and shining,

In fact - a black monolith.

Here Pierre mason. The spiritual way

From full bowls takes away it.

Let will pour an otset, but Will open an essence

- this way is pleasing.

Here the first ball of Natasha - light

Everything fills in pure - pure,

Concerning and golden, What

is brighter in the world is not present.

Here lust - the black stream -

Filled all essence of Natasha,

reflections of a non-existence, What

Here the habit pain is terrible.

And here war

is pulled by a bulk Over all, a chrevast.

Human crowds - a ballast sort.

I death reigns - velm is strong.

Here the present in hundred layers,

its multystoried troubles. You look for

intimate words,

When to you for forty long ago.

Here peering into a subject of the subjects

You you re-read again - Magnificent Tolstoy`s

.

Bored that I sleep and I eat.

You come into the novel as if to the temple, Vozzhazhdavsha`s

of a lesson of belief

In heavenly light -

Having presented the chimeras

mutely to heaven

Not to win against them forces -

But there is a help of the secret sphere: Tolstoy`s

through closer to us.

The DERELICT

Ya the kike in Russia. The Russian kike,

Shovelled by so much.

the Derelict, object of sneers, bit, Is given to

despised biped.

The derelict, the elect and the poet,

C the lira split by money.

to me a throat opens light,

not to shut it a grave.

I am a kike, I the truth am strong, I narrate

In verses on the truth. tone

I do not accept

I of new circumstances in any.

Outcast. Hope it is live

On light properties of a reality:

Is black now, but prospects - I know

Ya - has no right to deny.