The days. There...

(second edition of my "Дни.Там..." )



/ to Mary Antonia W,
dignity mother of my dearest son /


…Thus, we are, through all the times, stays friends…
In conscious feeling shared,
Again,
In passing that life’s fear of us being friends…

As ever…
No, not should we exhorcise each other’s shades
In frames of an unbroken photo of days passed;
One move is that into a stranger state, but nei –
One move (- a way)into tommorrow’s memory of us;

‘Twill smile to us
Co-sounded to gentle feeling in remain – a living cley –
Associated to the humaneness of animals and their dreams,
That somewhat understandable in all the times,
That somewhat wharm-like.

Of asimetrically broken stars
That croocked mirror can’t scare us no more;
Museum of the living exponauts (- this world -); -
Don’t have to know the lie, all there just continues…

It Does…
As (ever) everything, ‘twill keep a meaning of itself in quotas even,
As ever everything, ‘twill keep its nature and its distance;
In all the loves and lovers there – silent voices, and in time again
The stanzas’ words…to joys, to sadness…in
All them,…all us…

The days. The brought-up memory of future then,
The child brought up within ourselves
Is there…


/ to 01.02.2011 - Moscow /