Tsira Gogeshvili Poems

Sing something for me, sing,
while of yours think fly as dandelions.
Sing something for me, sing,
while the rain still rings only for us,
...

A poet is a grown-up child, anyhow,
He couldn’t compose, otherwise…
A poet is an adorer of queerness,
A bit - willful, a bit - precise…
...

I’m soothed, I’m cheered up;
For me the sea craves.
Spread are for me its blue wings,
With my frame, I feel the waves.
...

Puzzling dialogues grow facile,
April is a month of dates,
The cherry-plum blossoms in April,
And for the love it happily waits.
...

The poets rustle in the woods of verses.
...

To Emily Dickinson _
my etemal sister

The horror of the shattered mirror,
...

Give me your right-palm,
I'll tell fortunes to you,
As a fortuneteller -
As a maiden -gipsy....
...

You're blue stream and transparent so,
I’m tired of dreaming on a wild-road,
I'd sing but I’ll sing to stars over sky,
But I won’t drink you to thirst for, never
...

DANCING DROPS


I did not want it that,
...