Ifigenia Pearl

 

Поэт, писатель, переводчик. Стихи пишу с детства. Автор нескольких книг для малышей и повести для школьников «Танцы, огурцы и большие мечты».

Poet, writer, translator and interpreter. I started rhyming at about 6. Several of my books for kids and a novel for schoolchildren «Dancing, cucumbers and big dreams» had beed published in 2010-2016.


Отрывок из сборника стихотворений «Humatree»

Non-so-pretty

It’s hard to imagine someone magnificent
Splendid like you, elegant dreamboat.
You are harmony, beauty and power with no end,
You are perfection. I am not.

As I hoped we’d be
Through foul and fair,
Through here and there
Through you and me
Forever.

The skies were the same so high and savory
The roads were nutty, kissing our feet,
The seas smelled like fruit and gorgeous memory
I thought we were connected indeed.

As I thought we’d last
In present and future
By ties of our past
So tightly in trust,
Forever.

We are not forever that’s just regret.
The door is closed, as we’ve never met.
I will leave your non-so pretty spray
On a window pane of my soul to bloom away.

Humatree

Overhead
there is light and
roundelay.

Stretching
to them night and day ,
Summers and winters, stay
Roots deep grow,
Embedding low

Human to human is a tree
Humatree
Human to human is no one
Losing color, leafing around
On the ground.
Miraculously
Remains are taken by the wind
Only wrinkles on a skin-rind.
Human to human is a tree
Humatree…

And don’t ask
Beyond your grasp
Perfect pitch.

Beautiful
Feckless out of reach
Branches have million eyes
Roots deep grow,
Embedding low

Overhead
there is light and
Someone’s sining in the skies.

Hangman

He just did his work,
Came to the ward at certain o’clock,
Clicked handcuffs on some hands in ooze,
And led the one to the noose.
Stared straight in the eyes for a reason
Put a white sack on the head of the prisoner
Put the noose on a condemned neck
And pulled the lever. And it came back.

No one had known and no one should
The list had grown and he was a good
Professional.
It was his ordinary work.

He worked and that’s all,
Looked at the one in a Judas’s hole,
Wrote down the data of height and weight:
He needed to calibrate,

Death should be quick, and the body unharmed.
Time appointed and he came armed
Came to the ward to release from wait
Himself and the one. 7.5 rate.

They didn’t know but then found out
The list was big, “killer” they shout
Impossible life. It was his work.

He was not bad, he wasn’t a bad man.

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