The Apparition Of Shakespeare Poem by Liza Sud

I have translated sonnets in a week
As chrism was spilled or moved "like on the butter."
He showed there all nooks and soul's back streets
and they are all magnificent and shining.

He was self-confident in the begining,
and he turned very touching-crying then,
in the end, so ironic without grieving,
and passionate, leading a fire-game.

He appeared to me on the eighth sonnet,
And his rendition was very sublime,
his voice was very slow and assertive,
Raising on the lines' end - itself "delight".

And he was great, as our First Tsar Peter
with a big pointing finger - designate,
and very hard and sharp in every gesture,
in a brown coat like a monument.

They say that Shakespeare is not religious,
but no, he has his god, I must confess.
It's poetry, which conquers Death as weakness.
And as a poet I say to it - YES.