Zhulduz Baizakova

Rookie (Almaty, Kazakhstan)

The Cold Drawing - Poem by Zhulduz Baizakova

The cold drawing
in the cut dreams,
with the sounds of the sonata...

Why the hurry?
To learn what
should never be known...

Burning away at the Dawn,
to get born
with the Moon
and weep
along with the raindrops
because no one
can approach the Fire
and depart with no trace
of being burnt...

The cold tentacles
of the dead star -
once they touch -
it is too late to help...

To inject the red-hot needles
into the palm
with the purpose of overcoming oneself...

Yet branched voice of the Wound
still whispers
like cartilage of rampant pride,
like wings of the our planet
where each is punisher and judge…

Comments about The Cold Drawing by Zhulduz Baizakova

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 22, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, August 23, 2013

[Report Error]