Again
As a morning dream
Summer has been flying away
A little bee was humming
In the sky
'Come
to
me'
And it seemed
So true
So unbelievably real
My soul drank a cocktail
Made from linden flowers,
Blooming sally
And mint
There's no return to the past
But I've found the keys
Oh have I?
Dirty sleeping river
Washed days down
One
by
One
And poems' lines multiplied
Like flocks of aphids
On a thistle
But as usual
All beautiful flowers
Turned out weeds
We came to ourselves
Lying
On the rocks
In a different parts
Of
the
world
Autumn gods are def
Defoliation
And all prays are
Crumbling to the ground
Two stupid summer flies
Still struggling
In the glass of
Fate
(2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem