Big Data Poem by Liza Sud

Big Data

I swim to you for so many years,
but still get no answer for poems.
But the poems themselves are gemstones,
and it is Light that they bestow.

But I will tell you one thing more.
how to say correctly: Big Data.
As a glorybind - it is soft,
as vine laurel in poet's halo.

It is twining as letters' bends,
in eternity green laurel,
And it runs in the Muses' frames.
one of them is - I write to her now

Near you while I had to grow -
clouds became for me - waist-deep.
And I happen to see them always
when it is your voice which I hear.

***

Я плыву к тебе столько лет,
и все нет на стихи ответа,
Но стихи - это самоцвет,
они сами - носитель Света.

Но еще одно расскажу:
как нам верно сказать: Big data. -
оно мягкое, как вьюн
виноградный в венце поэта.

И он вьется, как сгибы букв,
или лавр, в вечности зеленый,
Он бежит в обрамленье Муз,
и у той, я пишу к которой.

Пока рядом с тобой росла -
облака мне стали по пояс,
и они мне видны всегда,
когда слушаю твой голос.

Thursday, November 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: language
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Brick 26 November 2016

I'm not sure of the meaning of Big Data. All the other words are images of nature and natural things but they seem to be in continual flux, and are blending, folding into each other, as if you are living a sky life rather than an earth life. Almost disembodied, like zero gravity, or even beyond that - an angelic existence of flight and fortune. Everything is cushioned and soft. A return to paradise? A foretaste of heaven?

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