Among the Worlds
Among worlds shone, amid glimmers,
A single star whose name I repeat....
Not so that I may come to love it,
But because I am weary of the rest.
And if I find doubt a burden,
I seek only from her an answer,
Not because she shines brightly
But because with her I need no light.
The Spring Romance
The river else doesn’t wholly reign,
But pale-blue ice is drowned now;
And clouds are not blue again,
But sun had drunk the snow out.
Through a half-opened door,
You fret a heart with rustle; though…
You are not else in love; but lor!
You can’t not fall in love tomorrow.
Among the worlds, the sparkling spheres,
The name of One Star only I repeat...
It's not because I love Her dearly
But just because I pine with others.
And when by doubt I'm troubled
I pray to Her alone for answers.
It's not because She gives off light,
But just because with Her I don't need light.
S. B. f-Shtein
There is such love that’s similar to smoke:
If it is bound – it’s intoxicating,
Receiving freedom – vanished, not awaiting…
Be like the smoke – but in young years locked.
There is such love that’s similar to shade:
If it is day – lay by your feet – a hound,
If it is night – embraced you all around…
Be like the shade – together night and day…
The gay day is ablaze… And in the languid grass
The poppies’ patches burn like impotent desire…
Like lips that can allure or deathly poison us,
Or wings of butterfly, wide spread and red like fire.
The gay day is ablaze… But old and empty stands
This garden, long ago lost of the feasts and pleasure,
And poppies,weathered, like old women’s heads,
Are warmly overspread by heaven chalice, azure.
I Thought That the Heart...
I thought that the heart made of stone,
That it’s fully empty and dead:
Though fire in it had been thrown,
It’s not damaged or just upset.
And that’s right: it was not tormented,
If – painful, then only a bit,
But, yet, it is better to end it,
Put out, while you can do it…
The heart is in darkness entire,
I’ve known: the victory’s mine –
At last, we extinguished the fire…
And, yet, in a smoke I die.
My eyes forgot the heavens’ blue,
To them the sun’s dust is not gold,
But I live just one substance through,
That’s to the amethyst’s planes owned.
‘Cause that that, drunker than young spring
And troubling stronger than idea,
The lilac fires have to sing
And coldly play with colors here.
And for the heart with pain and shame,
A dream comes, tender and deceiving:
As a crystal in the candles’ flame,
To stay in cold of lilac singing.
The Autumnal Romance
I watch you as coldly as never,
But can’t keep this pine in my breast,
Today sun’s in smoke of havens,
And sadness makes heavy a breath.
I know, I breed just a fable –
At least, trust to fables, - but you?…
Like needless oblations, in alleys,
Leaves fall in the mournful hue.
We’re joined by the fate that was blinded:
Would God join us ‘there’ – behind sky?…
Don’t laugh, if in spring days, delighted,
You’ll step on the lives that here die.
The Pine Of Reminiscence
I see always the page that is filled on
By the muddy-black blotches of ink.
I am able from men to be hidden,
But to where could I run from night’s brink?
All that live has become so distant,
That didn’t come – so perfectly watched,
And forgotten lines merge from that instant
Till next dawn into many a blotch.
I’m all there – in impossible answers,
Where the letters of dreams loom in sight…
I like children to be in a house –
And these children to cry in the night.
Select a dark night and in a field, unpeopled, naked,
dip into gray twilight.... May the air, having fanned, becalm,
May the stars, winking, in the cold sky slumber on....
Tell the heart not to count its thumps....
Stop in mid-step and listen! You're not alone... The wings
of a bird, heavy, sodden, drift through the fog.
Listen…. it's the flight of a predator, a sovereign avian,
They call that bird T i m e, and on its wings is your will,
A passing dream of happiness, hopes' golden rags …