Happiness For The Soul Poem by Marina Tatarskaya

Life allured Desire with words, laces delicate,
Painted pictures of thoughts, days and human true destinies…
Pure Soul, sick and tired of Senses and Etiquette,
Like a vegetable fried, was squirming in agonies:
Grieving Soul was and writhing akin to a caught up bird,
Badly wanted to meet Bliss, nerve-racking awaited for,
Broke locks and walked out and strayed in a foreign world,
Raised bridges at nights when it suffered a tender sore…
Still for Happiness looks Soul; it dreams, hopes, waits,
Strolls and flies, tries to find it - and never will quit!
Soul is firm to go on - while the Globe rotates,
And there is no doubt that it will succeed!

01/05/2018
[translation from Russian by V. V. Chistyakov]