Liza Sud Poems

Silently pieces hang
on both sides of body.
you didn'e believe that life
doesnt have any bounds?
...

To London station I have come,
and cried for a long time,
oh Russia, you my native land,
how low is your decline...
...

Alex, your poems - always on the edge,
and that's why so painfully they wound,
and all the time are- over-over death
and keep my soul - so tightly bound.
...

Always only your portraits to see.
To admire you – never enough,
In your sanctity always to swim,
To forget that death happens sometimes.
...

Wherever I look in - all is synchronous.
and pain binds my body with stiffness
and white light pushes me to go -
where only happiness may grow.
...

Robbed of his homeland,
though he's not whacky.
Is that - a kopeck
with George Triumphant?
...

Oh my bitter Matilda!
Sad songs of yours that you sing -
of your greenhouse as prison,
love here impossibe is!
...