Sphinx Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

A frozen sphinx
Is gazing at me motionless -
It's made from stone...
Neva is also frozen...
(*Neva - is the river in Saint-Petersburg)
In the twilight there are the fires glowing
And luring to go...
The fire - great flames there far,
In distance...
But here's - only the ice... and so cold...
Here, on the river, the frames of ships
Are sticking up to height
With their masts...
The life along the stone embankment lasts
As sudden play fast...
As a desperate attemt
Everything had born and intertwined
On the heavy anchor...
Which holds you tightly, seriously,
Right as it should be...

The sorcery of frozen cats
Are bringing me
Again the heat of old days,
So sad within...

The old, congealed hotness
Of the old days
In tough hard cold...
The smoke of the boiler houses on sky
Is threatening
By shadows of roses..