The Poet

The Poet

I absolutely stopped the smiling…

Left me waiting, Various Edition , 2012, Sugar lift and spit bite etching I absolutely stopped the smiling, A white frost tries my lips to froze, One hope’s gone from hopes’ filing, One song will come to songs, morose. And this song, seeing none or hearing, I’ll give to mocking and defiance Because it is …

May be, my corps now there lies.

May be, my corps now there lies.

Forgotten? I’m not even wondered! Forgotten was I hundred times, And times, I’m in grave, were too hundred, May be, my corps now there lies. And Muse was too deafened and blinded, Was rotting – a seed – in soils’ mesh, To rise then to blue of the Highland Like Phoenix from blackness of ash Anna Akhmatova