O rose beyond the reach of time and of the senses
O kiss enveloped in the scarves of all the winds
surprise me with one dream
that my madness will recoil from you
Recoiling from you
In order to approach you
I discovered time
Approaching you
in order to recoil form you
I discovered my senses
Between approach and recoil
there is a stone the size of a dream
It does not approach
It does not recoil
You are my country
A stone is not what I am
therefor I do not like to face the sky
not do I die level with the ground
but I am a stranger, always a stranger
End of the poem
15 random poems
- angel_of_better_days_to_come.html
- Владимир Британишский – У этой матери кормящей
- The Kiss by Siegfried Sassoon
- Gathering Leaves by Robert Frost
- Валерий Брюсов – После смерти Ленина
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вот, главный вход
- Interlude: Songs Out Of Sorrow by Sara Teasdale
- Playthings by Rabindranath Tagore
- Metamorphosis by Shaunna Harper
- 1914 by Wilfred Owen
- On the Burning of Lord Mansfield’s Library by William Cowper
- Какая мама молодец
- The Young British Soldier by Rudyard Kipling
- Poem
- Николай Заболоцкий – Когда вдали угаснет свет дневной
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
