I touch you as a lonely violin touches the suburbs of the faraway place
patiently the river asks for its share of the drizzle
and, bit by bit, a tomorrow passing in poems approaches
so I carry faraway’s land and it carries me on travel’s road
On a mare made of your virtues, my soul weaves
a natural sky made of your shadows, one chrysalis at a time.
I am the son of what you do in the earth, son of my wounds
that have lit up the pomegranate blossoms in your closed-up gardens
Out of jasmine the night’s blood streams white. Your perfume,
my weakness and your secret, follows me like a snakebite. And your hair
is a tent of wind autumn in color. I walk along with speech
to the last of the words a bedouin told a pair of doves
I palpate you as a violin palpates the silk of the faraway time
and around me and you sprouts the grass of an ancient place—anew
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Robert Burns: Up In The Morning Early:
- Владимир Маяковский – Если белогвардейщину не добьем совсем… (РОСТА №148)
- Memory
- A Winter Ship by Sylvia Plath
- Morning Poem #59 by Wanda Phipps
- Николай Гумилев – Крыса
- Vernal Ode by William Wordsworth
- Song from Aella by Thomas Chatterton
- Pandering by Satish Verma
- Come by Samuel Stephen Wakdok
- Places and Men by William Allingham
- Impresa by Satish Verma
- Robert Burns: O Thou Dread Power: Lying at a reverend friend’s house one night, the author left the following verses in the room where he slept:-
- Федор Сологуб – Вы не умеете целовать мою землю
- The Chestnut Casts His Flambeaux poem – A. E. Housman
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
