Maybe only 'At Candles' translation is a bit properly... Read it just if you want to know some themes and meanings of my poetry. I was not the one to do the translation; one program-translator was - a very dumb one.

At candles
Once at night, at candles
She sat at a table.
Having scattered hair on shoulders,
Worn on a neck pendant.
The mirrors stand in front of her,
Merging in a long corridor.
Her eyes shine in flames,
A celebratory pattern is on the dress …
The clock beats for twelve times.
She takes a pen by trembling hand.
There's a pair of phrases.
And a taper. For (the rest in peace after Death)
Two tears fell from eyes.
Steel wedge had sparkled in her hand.
It had lit, through an instant had extinguished .
And in her vein had softly sunk.
The blood had (sharply flew) on mirrors.
The steel knife had fallen to the table.
She took it by the other hand.
It has begun to shine brightly again.
Again the pain, the blood again.
She had looked at herself:
" No, I don't die for love.
'Cause I don't love anyone.
And I'm not bothered of live.
I did not want to die.
But I have decided to spill the blood,
To learn what the Death is
18.01.2000

Cold spring
Yes, I know, the sun shines.
I know, that the spring has come.
Frequently I think of summer.
But what's the sense? I'm alone …
And the spring doesn't help.
The sun shines, but not to me.
My eyes sparkle with hoarfrost.
One won't kindle them with fire.
How many I've tried to do!
And reproaching myself,
I've bathed in the boiling water the whole day,
And sat on the oven. In vain!!
Blood is the same. Icy.
Eyes shine with hoarfrost.
And the spring does not help.
Only days pass as a dream …
5.04.1999

Glass of wine
Filled up to end,
There is a glass of wine.
Doubts: to drink or not to drink,
You see life's only one.
And how will you live -
You must choose yourself.
Will you drink the wine? Or spill,
Will not risk?
Though, listen, is there any risk?
You see life's only one!
Live, as you want, this instant.
Drink all the glass to the bottom!
24.09.1999


Line
Yesterday you have taken a sheet of a paper
Also has approached to a window.
As what for you drew -
You did not explain anybody.
Has run under the house cat.
Behind it(him) a hand yours conducts
Curve line. Behind it
The dog runs. We are silent.
The drop on glass flows down.
In a hand not move a pencil.
Only shadow of a candle shivers in a corner.
In dreams you draw a landscape.
What will be your line ?
Its bends are so easy...
Maybe, edge of Life?
Is not present, it is delirium and trifles.
I am not able to draw,
And you hardly probable understand
My verses. Well, leave it.
Not for you I write them, you know!
9.11.1999

Into liquid
With caligraphic diversion
You write the letters on glass.
And suddenly, shaked,
With a silent groan
You fall into the darkness.
You any more I shall not see.
Also I shall not hear a voice yours.
And what for? In dirty liquid
You have fallen by a silly head.
And, you know, I do not pity(regret).
And from a glass
I shall wipe an inscription. More cheerfully!
By anything help I could not.
Probably, there will be we soon,
When I'll want too
To draw my own patterns
At the frost-bitten window.
But, trust me, I'll be cleverer.
And in order not to fall directly in a dirty(dirt)
I'll shut the frame more dense
And I shall draw, laughing.
22.11.1999

The end
I again see light of a candle
At a dark window.
I ask you, keep silent!
I wanna be alone …
And behind a window burn lights:
Light of headlights, lantern, windows.
And days pass by …
And I'm already ridiculous!
Which day we here sit?
Which candle
We here burn. Also we look
To a window. But I am silent.
You already fell directly in a dirty(dirt),
Pictures drew.
What communication(connection) is between it?
Even you didn't know it.
And suddenly, not knowing the reasons,
You climbed down from a window.
Has left, having blown fire of a candle.
I sit in darkness alone …
22.12.1999

Margaret
Above the green river
The witch flies on the broom.
Trembling undressed leg,
Nude, again drunk.
Also does not reject a shadow,
And in lunar light is not visible.
Slightly only shiver knees
From hop of red wine.
Roads pass below,
Fields, woods and cities,
Islam, christian and judas churches …
She would like to fly like this forever!
And with lunar light the steppe is filled,
Cool air beats in the face.
But already sees Margarita
The ring of Devil's trees.
Behind them nothing is visible
For two pairs of eyes of the ordinary humen.
It is completely not a shame to them here to go for a walk
At midnight o'clock among demons.
Margo is a queen today!
She's invited to the ball.
And let Eva envy her,
'Cause Satan rules the ball!!!
8.12.1999

She
She stood in canes,
Raising hands to heavens.
She stood, all in tears.
She did not trust tears.
She was washed by an autumn rain,
And the wind has combed her hair.
What for you here? Whom are you waiting for?
Who would tell it to her?!
She stands here for many years.
And I - only five minutes.
As soon as will burn down my light,
I shall leave for darkness. I'm waited.
But she doesn't care. She's flower
Amonf wet grey canes.
Near her the stream runs.
And hole of field mice.
Cold water of the river
Flows on stone feet.
Perhaps, it is trifles.
And let all it go to Hell!
She's just a stone, what she cares about?
And she spits on mice.
She is silent. Silent. But
To me again is, of what to dream.
11.01.2000

Steel rod
Stars are still lighting.
Silently. The moon only shines.
The midnight approaches. Whether for us
The wind between of glasses whistles?
I'm in darkness on bed
laying and looking in a ceiling.
I can see it hardly - hardly.
Whether you my sleep take?
By strange gait through rods
To us the Darkness makes the way.
What it searches here?
Stinkness and dirt? It's prison.

Silly, you would rather run
Lunar way away.
The sun again would begin to shine.
The terrible night would terminate.
Is it dawn? I don't believe.
I thought, that I wouldn't survive.
Sounds of steps behind a door
Did not prevent me to love.
Darkness, I address to you!
Fool, you won't understand.
Maybe I won't see you again …

No, they won't break me!!!
Yes, I sit behind a lattice.
Strong, as a steel rod.
The life again beats me.
Beat - but please-don't whine!
I shall sustain all without fear.
To wait only do not force!
If not waits for me axe,
Then shoot ....faster!
Life doesn't respond to my request,
Has chosen worst punishment.
Expectation of a step under ground,
Impatience, rage and fear.
What I wait for, is inevitable.
Doors scratches every night.
The pigeons - symbol of hope.
What can they help?

The darkness again has come, does not leave.
Key in the lock. It's for me.
Black gun induce. A shot.
I'm steel rod!!!
You will not break me so,
Also will not shoot, monster.
I already have died, you know.
You know all beforehand.
The body mine is laying
On a black, cold floor.
The name is erased.
State stuff's in a corner …
And I'm flying with the pigeons!
I'm strong steel rod.
We somewhere behind clouds.
Darkness, be the wife!
11.01.2000


New year
Darkly and terribly. New year.
Both white snow. And grey ice.
Slices of stars above shine.
Is not present on trees of the bird's jacks.
The moon does not sleep. Метет a blizzard.
Heat calls me in bed.
I want to spit upon a frost,
To be overlooked(forgotten) in the sweet world of dreams,
To hear votes in darkness
And to meet New year … in dream.
Let will begin to sparkle мишура,
Also will be glad children,
Let all be covered with confetti.
I shall not tell to you: " Goodbye! ",
With me there will be you all night,
Only one can to me help,
My sweet world of cheerful dreams.
With you there will be no more tears …
… And morning I'll wake up alone,
I shall see the sun from a window,
I shall overlook(forget) all: where I was,
That I there ate, that a saw,
Also that wrote on sheets,
Who has transformed then them into ashes,
To whom with love I lied,
Was I drunk and cheerful …
… Light of the sun has filled a room,
And the New century has come(stepped)!
24.12.1999




About flowers
To learn to draw,
It is not necessary to cry or to sleep.
That the ideas to express,
It is not necessary hole to dig.
To know when to put(plant) flowers,
It is not necessary to take from emptiness
All клочья, that we can take.
And to think up the new world,
You will suffice simply жалких holes
In empty, rotted through head,
That in the morning has died in a grass.
But if there is such order,
To trust in happiness only of time,
To not pierce by a needle language,
To live and to remember this instant,
That has transformed your world into sand, -
You drink  this yellow juice!
It will carry you away from there,
Where there is no rain. And cities
By sand are covered,
Where the malicious people eternally sleep …
And you will fall asleep. But you do not cry.
You see the dream will rescue from failures
Yours holy brains.
And as you will wake up, run!
Anybody there will not rescue you:
Neither malicious sand, nor kind ice.
You will be there absolutely alone
Among large sandy ices.
I hate your question!
And your bouquet of the withered roses,
That you store(keep) in a corner. And you
Do not love yellow flowers,
That dies under my window.
So come faster in my house!
We together shall pull out weeds
And, having naked ,
Eat withered flowers,
Let's rescue our world from beauty,
Also we shall live in sand together.
Also we shall know, that we shall not die.
16.02.2000

Choice is yours
As it is terrible, not having noticed edges(territory),
To be broken downwards. To fly, not knowing,
That you're flying. And don't care,
That already beside bottom of abyss.
The admirer of fast life by this,
You'll die, having left without the answer
All that had not time(was in time) to ask.
You have prefered, not looking, to live.
But there is still alternative:
To live long, it is boring and beautifully.
To have family, machine, house,
To grow potatoes under a window,
Breakage of edge(territory) be far away,
Let even the edge(territory) that will dream.
And when will become the old grandfather,
To sit in a garden, having covered your knees …
Listen, nevertheless be yourself,
You see the main choice - yours!
28.02.2000

Time of changes
Our life sometimes is nothing.
We do not appreciate its(her) shine.
Crash of fire, fire of colours,
Violent waves by the sea sound.
We want to leave all
And to leave. To not know for where.
Leaves will be carried by the wind.
Water will begin to flow further.
All will be destroyed around.
Old walls will tremble,
And your world will return to a circle.
It - time of changes.
7.03.2000

The angel
The bloody angel on glass
Has left a strange seal.
And in souls ours a dark trace.
About it has asked to be silent.
It(he) has spread a carpet colour
From different grasss at our legs.
Has disappeared, having left us with you
All that it(he) has not saved up.
Still it(he) has asked to find
All that spoils us with you.
To find, to correct and to leave.
In beautiful, but hard fight.
There to die, having overlooked(forgotten) itself.
To reduce efforts on is not present.
To break in one instant, loving,
To all of us a habitual course of planets.
11.03.2000

The artist
In strange stratification
Squares and circles
You catch mood
Flows and meadows.
In a simply grey crate
You can see roads:
The artist in sulfur cap
Steped on your threshold.
In dark corridors
The world of shadows has risen:
From silent conversations
Is not becomes more cheerful.
17.03.2000

Shadow
Heat and silent was
In the heated log hut.
Suddenly whose shadow has stiffened.
I have noded to you.
We together quickly have risen
Also were set forward.
We have attacked a shadow -
But that was simply cat.
That, again failure.
In the street darkly.
Here again we, not differently,
As to look in a window.
4.04.2000

*   *   *
The light future,
By the past spoiled,
Gone from the monitor,
As by a plague marked.
Has ceased cacophony.
Have begun to sound songs.
Sad history.
Again downwards on downstairs.
Let's combine our values
In bank on outside,
To leave in an integrity
Our powers.
Would not rise sun,
Would not ring flowers,
If you, beautiful,
Would not break rods,
And would not beat with a rod
On a back not lovely.
Only has bothered to us
Fairy tale boring …
2.05.2000

Forgotten
Well and if I so would like!
To escape from loneliness,
To recollect an ancient prophecy,
To spoil spring.
You, perhaps, will not allow
Change in a kind history,
To develop my theory,
Also will leave one.
I'm  left again without a name,
And wine again isn't poured to me.
Such idyll.
Century other and world other.
But I don't wait for a pardon
And sins all forgiveness.
It's enough to me to talk
To the newborn spring.
10.05.2000