My grandma had a dark blue brooch.
It was just glass, few pennies' worth.
Held to the light, it flashed, as bright
As all the diamonds on earth.
...
People are works of art.
I've known some human sculptures:
Elegant, cold, detached,
Closed in upon themselves.
...
Me and my solitude,
A strange relationship.
By turns embracing it
Or wriggling in its grip.
...
I hear the echoes of songs,
Collect the truths no one heeds.
I pick up signs, gather clues,
String them together like beads.
...
The dust on the shelf -
Dry tears of the book
Neglected for long
Unused to the touch
...
Having to decide
Between 'want' and 'must',
I chose the latter
Held on to it fast.
...
Yet another city left behind.
And I wonder if it still exists,
If the city hall clock strikes midnight,
Towers looming up, wrapped in the mists.
...
Grappling in my head
For the word to say,
When my mind goes blank.
Like a barren desert
...
I was a Grecian urn,
Once buried, then unearthed,
Forgotten by the sea.
The wrinkles of my cracks
...
Through the fields I went.
Breath of the wind, smell of the earth.
Not a soul in sight.
Barefoot, the grass tickling my feet.
...
There is no final truth in life,
No questions that can just be settled
Once and for all. We don't arrive
At any terminus. Accept it.
...
Reading for days, months, years
Somebody else's thoughts,
Swallowing them so fast
There's hardly time to chew.
...
Why do we FALL in love?
Is it a sin?
Are we like aircraft gone
Into a spin?
...
You have a face of a nun,
Of a saint.
Oh, let me paint you! -
I'm a sinner. Why
...
I bear the burden of your love.
It is a debt I won't repay.
It weighs me down, I bend, I hunch.
How can I make you go away?
...
Imagine me, or I will not exist.
Your thoughts flesh out my body, give me weight.
My voice inside your head - you choose the tone.
Some final touches: I'm complete. But wait
...
I'm learning to think in English and to feel it, though my mother tongue is Russian. And I'm learning through poetry.)
A Brooch
My grandma had a dark blue brooch.
It was just glass, few pennies' worth.
Held to the light, it flashed, as bright
As all the diamonds on earth.
My 'treasure chest' full to the brim
Had all the wonders of the world,
The magic brooch there reigned supreme,
Though no one heard the tales it told.
Its every facet was to me
An invitation to the ball,
Where ladies dance in evening gowns
And shadows flutter on the wall.
My grandma said, 'One day I'll go
Then you'll have all my jewels, dear.'
She sounded proud, as if proclaimed
Me heiress to the throne. No fear
Of death, self-pity or complaint.
She knew and waited for her day.
The dark blue brooch was all I kept
When she did pass away.
Julia, welcome! Your command of English, poetic English, enables us to meet your thoughts in full. I look forward to reading your poems. You probably know that everyone around the world who reads Russian literature in translation feels that they are 'honorary Russians' in their heart...
Julia - you have an incredible talent of capturing beauty. 'doomed to joy' and 'wordless' reminded me that if you open yourself to the world, it will speak to you in many languages.
Julia, please post some of your poetry in Russian. О ч е н ь х о ч е т с я п о ч и т а т ь !