I will wipe you by floss -
flower that is mine.
in hell we will not burn
God - He is yours and mine.
God - is always for us,
when we go to bed,
to cleanse our eye
After that - punishment.
For the present you may
so consider this love:
it was moved to the cycle
not by fear but grace.
Do you want stones? - Pick,
building the cobblestone road.
enlightening the night, we -
Only in poems will burn.
***
Ваткой тебя протру -
цветочек, который мой.
Мы не сгорим в аду,
Бог - он ведь мой и твой.
Бог - Он всегда за нас,
и когда вместе ляжем,
чтобы очистить глаз -
только потом накажет.
А пока можно так
эту любовь считать:
в круговорот не страх
вывел, а благодать.
Хочешь камней? - бери,
строя по мостовым.
ночь просветляя, мы -
только в стихах сгорим.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The love at the center of this poem is precariously placed between grace and sin. There is no false note in your love of both God and a created being, but there are laws, divine laws, and desires, human desires. How to balance them? One way is given at the very end - TO BURN ONLY IN POEMS