Not abandoning.
I feel comfort, even when you
burn the woods between us.
No target pain, a banal
recurrence of failing.
Take me to the home of god.
When I see you, I
remember Akhmatova. I will
not divide eternal time of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem about arithmetics of love.. liked it