Добрый день. Я пишу стихи с 11 лет, как на английском, так и на русском языках. Пробовала и прозу, но нашла себя именно в стихах. Надеюсь, вам будет интересно их прочесть, поскольку у меня богатый словарный запас и лирические темы. Люблю разных писателей и поэтов, от Гомера до Павича.
1) I think I know what heaven is…
I think I’ll know what heaven is
When I see you
The glim of sunshine in your eyes
Like gems of dew
You’re like a silver shadow
Lost in morning mist
A shining diamond bracelet
Hanging on your wrist
You’re kind of fairytale
One’ll never want to end
A ghost of perfect dream,
A maid of Neverland
You’re a drop of water
In the sands of Time
You are a diamond in a crown
You are a haze, a limpid
Angel out of reach
A net of voiceless words
I’ve always tried to preach…
You are a secret tale
The only teller knew,
You are a wonder of a song
Sung to just a few
You are a touch of silky veil
Upon one’s chest
An evanescent breath
Of life among the death
A sparkling stream of truth
Among the strangling lies
A blue-haired girl singing
Happily to the skies…
In the house of dark, hidden from people’s eyes,
Lives a devilish beast in its earthly disguise.
There go horror tales all around, let it be;
For this sensitive creature of Darkness is me.
Once a girl came to me; she was lost in the woods.
Well, I helped her but wished I could have her for good
For – the witnesses are all the angels above –
When I saw her, I fell in the frenzy of love.
And she almost agreed but she wanted at least
To perceive the appearance of hidden beast.
I refused her at first but agreed then – oh, well…
And I came in the night as the creature of Hell.
And next morning I knew that she had run away
But I knew that dark woods would just lead her astray,
So I rushed after her to release and to save
‘Cause I had no desire to see her in grave…
It was sunny at first but then in came the night.
And I found the scent of that lady in white,
I have found the path where her feet dressed in lace
Left a bloody and daintily odorous trace.
And I ran and I rushed and I found her soon –
Like a swan, she was lit by a cold shiny moon,
To that time I was crazy and – hard was my lot! –
I have pressed my sharp fangs to that delicate throat.
When I came to my senses, the first thing I found
Was a sweet tattered body that lay on the ground.
Like a bird shot in flight she lay threadbare and spread,
And it struck like a knife when I knew she was dead.
I stood up and I cried and I laughed like a loon,
Tore the flesh on my chest, howled at silent moon…
I had dug a fresh grave, buried her but before
Took a piece of that blood-stained lace stocking from her.
When sometimes I get bored, melancholic and cold,
It reminds me of beautiful soul of old,
Then I sniff the sweet cloth – hold my feelings I can’t!
Oh my God, I repeat, what a beautiful hunt!