By Jakov Bast
I try your face remember... but the features are worn...
As if colours are mixed in the palette of autumn...
I'm closing eyes... and comes wave of the black storm.
That dark couldn't be pierced by the candle or torch...
And your image is floating as a sail in the darkness,
It is flurrying me, mulling thoughts and desires...
And the years - all doctors, that cured my heart,
Step away into dark, as a bridge hang between us...
We are swept through the life, over countries and dreams...
And again out of zone... the pawns of our fate...
We're sailing the sea of the dreams... adressees...
Nothing had gone... the time's summing up dates...
We are - komets, that fly in the parallel worlds,
As the fragments - we fall in a star-fall but rare...
It is silent. And night. We have talk in my verse...
And the candle doesn't fade... and the torch's brightly flaming..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem