Poetry Poem by Victor Sklyarov
Poetry
The poetry’s the living creature
That’s nourished by response
She’s timid when you reach her
And ripens when you haunt
Her hiding place. If you besiege her
She’ll leave seclusion and acquire features
Of splendid fairy they vaunt
Of taste and delicacy with admixture
Of fear of the unknown.
But if it happens that the contact breaches
She’ll starve to death in wildwood ditches.
She's timid when you reach her and ripens when you haunt her hiding place. Very well crafted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 11:22:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
hmmmm I like it easy to read simple good write