marikia Poetry (260)

What is it that you cherish in my name?
It’s doomed to die as wistful noise
Of wave that splashed against a bank,
As creepy sound in nightly grove.

On memorandum it will leave a trace,
A lifeless mark like pattern strange
Of epitaph on tombstone grave
Carved in a tongue unknown and quaint.

What is in it? Long time forgotten since
In worries of the new tumultuous times
Your soul will never own, partake in bliss
Of tender recollections pure and nice.

But on the day of sadness, when in peace
You utter it in token of your grief,
You whisper: there is memory of me,
There’s heart in world in which I'm living still...

See all the brilliance of Empress Fall!
She’s glittering like sun in coat of gold.
She's driving into ball in splendid chariot,
Her retinue enraptured stands in awe.

The colored carpets on the ground,
The foliage falling from the boughs,
Leaves whirling, spinning round and round
Above our heads turn into words.

Her minion once again with sweet embrace
Bewitched the Empress Fall to total bliss
And cast away by someone in the dance
Masks were picked by rakish wind and kissed.

Yes, Empress Fall to heart’s content
She twirled in dance for last time in the ball
And then dissolved in faces pallid, grey...
The sound of final cord is now heard no more.

Autumn scattered leaves like letters
No addresses specified.
Glowing slow, it softly dampened,
Life ascending to the sky.

Up in smoky blue of heavens
Melting as in pure dream,
Golden fall was soon to perish
Leaving all its songs to me.

And my verse comes from these songs,
Hence the joy and sadness of heart,
And if world is so charming for most
Let us pray it remains such for us.

Now that autumn descended thus
On life’s long and heavy haul,
My azure of sky starts to shine
As a sign that it’s time soon to go.

Through this magic azure of sky
Same as fall I am not fully gone,
I won’t vanish for ever in time
But will stay here with you in my verse.

I know it hurts, don't say it isn't worth it.
I know there's pain, don't tell me there is not.
I know your grief; your pain in fact is nothing
Compared to mine - just look if disbelieve my words.
You've been abandoned thus when you most needed
His caring touch, his eyes you miss so much.
In vain we comfort you, of no avail entreaties,
Your soul to loss can not be reconciled.
There's love and loss, there's joy and sorrow.
There's life and death, who knows where goes the line?
Death's coming, we don't know what holds tomorrow,
Your shattered dreams are all that's left behind.
God bless you, oh I wish that your departure
Were painless as can be and peaceful, so I pray.
Hold on, my friend, in time of need and trouble,
You're not alone, we'll see you through to end.

Once upon time there lived a gander,
So strong and smooth, apt to singing much.
As he walked in yard, singing songs in raptures
A passer by saw him strutting thus
Remarking: “There’s proper gander!”

A hen overheard him and talked to her man
That night when the roost was preparing for bed.
She said: “They said something about propaganda,”
“I’ve always suspected,” was rooster’s reply,
“Let’s wait for the morning, I'll make him pay price.”

Next day he spread rumors around the world
Declaring the gander a dangerous bird,
More likely a hawk clad in gander’s clothes.
A small brown hen joined in chorus, recalled
Watching from distance him talking to hawks,

“They were up to no good, I am sure!” she said.
Then duck stepped in, reaching back in his head,
Remembered how gander was telling one day
That he was non-believer, “To hell with the flag!”-
He said. - Oh what devil in hide of a friend!

A guinea hen then recalled having watched
Someone like the gander throw something like bomb.
So all snatched their weapons, took up sticks and stones,
Descending with curses on innocent’s home,
Who peacefully strutted in yard singing songs.

“There he is!” – every fowl was heard,
“Hawk-lover! Atheist! Bomb-thrower! Take change!”
So they set upon him, drove out of estate.
And here’s a moral - please all ear lend:
If someone that you and your wife think is bad,
If toppling the government seems part of his plans,
For all your delusion must be driven from state.

My days are slowly dragging by,
And with each moment in my dismal heart
The sorrows are increased of wretched love
And all the dreams of madness are alarmed.
But I am silent; no, my moaning isn’t heard;
I tears shed; tears are my consolation sole;
My soul in custody of deepest woe
Finds bitter comfort in the tears, throe.
Oh hour of life! Flee on, I care not for life,
Get lost in dark, a mere specter, die;
I’d rather languish with desire, pine –
Oh let me die, but let me die in love!

Listen to simple song of heart that aches
From pure love for you, in which it bathes.
Heart’s ready to embrace your heart,
But cunning mind knows when the ailment starts
And what's its bitter end - severe strife.
But mind is helpless where feelings dwell,
It can not tame the heart which holds the reins
And rules the mind; when pure senses gain
The upper hand, then all advice is vain
And mind is held in custody of pain,
For what is love, our mind keeps saying,
If not much suffering. In order not to fail in
Life-long struggle for the better end
Hold on to mind, which is your closest friend.

The tender kiss of autumnal bliss
Burned in the woods like crimson star,
And song of transparent ringing streams
Felt oh so peaceful and so calm.

From trees a dead leaf down fell
Colored maize-yellow or crimson red,
It lay crying wistfully on its bed
Immersed in the dewy misty haze.

Luxuriant sun from skies far off
Slept dreaming dreams of affluence,
And kissed and fawned the face of earth
In languor of sweet impotence.

And in the evenings high above
Vermilion garments burned.
Bathed in the tears, stained with blood
The doves of hope there mourned.

Flying in sky in celestial beauty
Hearts to the ether lured, enticed,
Making the wreaths of airy-white lilies
There in the distance heaven-high.

That autumnal song mature and ripe
Is full of words of bitterness sweet,
Same as a fertile loving wife,
Same as progenitress ours Eve.

I walked down the passage, a sullen route,
On me like a load heavy silence weighed.
I moved and as strangers with hostile look
Statues were gazing from grim recess.

In gloomy sleep things were deadly stiff,
A gray semidarkness was eerie and quaint,
And same as the sound of pendulum big
Resounded in passage my hollow steps.

And there in the dark of abysmal space
My fiery eye viewed in mortal fright
A shape unobtrusive in deeper shade
Of crowded pillars rising so high.

Having approached a chilling fear
Grabbed me as beast and caught my breath:
I noticed in horror a head of hyena,
On maiden’s slim shoulders did it rest.

Its pointed snout was stained with blood
And eyes were glowing with hollow light,
And creepy whisper kept hoarse and vile:
“You came by yourself, so now you're mine!”

Those fearful moments swept by so fast,
And the half-light fell like a misty cloud,
And the pallid horror grew, doubled in size
Reflected in mirrors of charnel house.

I’m sorry for my silence, no response,
When our newborn love attention claimed,
When heartless dark no comfort brought
There in the port, on midnight berth,
When souls so longed to go to sea
To sail towards dawn of hope and dreams,
To scatter smoky twilight mist,
Come to believe in love as sheer bliss,
Where sparks of words and dazzling stars
Burned with the heat of accord so divine.
It’s pity world was such a complex task for us
That links and parts entangled, intertwined,
Were broken, cut and torn for good at last...
We proved to be on parting of our paths,
Now only time runs on its course as water does,
And someone else is spinning globe for us.

Our verses – almost same as wine,
Surprising, they just make us drunk.
They pour much pain on paper leaf
Putting all blame on someone else for grief.
Hand in despair reaches out for pen
As if it were but a wine-glass stem.
Years, centuries may pass and go
In expectation of the heat and glow
Of feelings fine, infatuation, more ...
For souls not to get hoary-white with snow!
Catch inspiration, grasp the moment, quick,
It serves the talents, only poets it could feel.
And let our heads with feelings reel,
Same as the world with leaf-fall spins.
And poetry – what are the words it asks?
The only words it asks are words of love.

It feels so good in wet and gloomy weather,
When drizzling rain seems blessing sent to me
To put light steps on inspiration ladder,
It’s easier to breathe, the air’s fresh and keen.
Pulling apart the arms of crooked growth
I’m making way to distant forest path,
Where hosts of flowers close by road
Touch and caress my feet with petals fine.
There lofty trees incline to touch my brow
And whisper into ear a newly found word.
I bend to herbage green that shines and glows
To breathe in their fragrance, so once more
Under such spell of sadness, oh so deep,
I’ll take in all the beauty of bad clime,
And open up my soul and hail as bliss
If Nature sees in me her kin, beloved child.