The only path of many – rainbow and love
The lives are precious – azure-blue in skies
A wind my friend is blowing with love
And solemnly on knees I’ll take your star
…
‘twas honey pleasure – trees are friends
Within the latent gray in early morning
With whom you whisper in the storm
Forsaken past with frozen air…
…
Such sweetest touch, such simple deeds
There was neither passion nor affection
But you are none – and acute in intra vitam
I’m running through the sepulcher when sleep
…
A. Glukhov. The tree. 1990. The Blagodatov collection in St. Petersburg.
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Too scrawny beasts have frozen hearts
A vale of woe in your eyes I’ve seen
With vim and vigour I shall run to you
There are much trees and no you…
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Along the street a secret path to Thee
I’ll gaze at vapor – quiet silhouette afar
The strangers talk and one night kiss
Due silver knight I’ve got much bliss
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Whither are you drifting lightly Light
The stunning silence hiding in the night
We fled so fast away like a whiff
Till death I shall be keeping snow bliss
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Again you’ll see beloved object sleeping
Hard squeeze and lightest, longest tig
It will be cute and waiting one light kiss
We’ll be exhausted…lying on the beach
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Come to that place a pack of wild wolves
They want to do so many furious attacks
And we are dying from disastrous fatigue
They’ll give us free and cozy beds
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Be live…and do the best your own way
And there is neither sense of joy or blue
Perfection I have seen no more
The trees are pensive in the breeze
…
At royal ball we’ll dance together lonely
Could I control the weather light
Once in a while when we’ll get a glee