I wanna be LILAC this season
Dear, I’m too tired –
An absolutely abnomal feeling –
Nonsense – leaves nothing to be desired,
I’m short of breath and pride to hit the ceiling.
Every extra ellipsis you spare for me
Lilac, tender and slender, I am, just a lilac,
Warrior, you are velcomed, c-est ma trémie,
Enormous words of mine lust after life, for lie lack
If I surrendered at your discretion lacking in common sense –
No shape of heart on my love, a lilac, a skinny spear –
Ever you hear, would you, a windy dance
Restless and faint – my fingers – the keyboard near my fear?
Mercy? Never! So cruel my fancy for
Originality must be the cause of laughter
Nonsense! Just created a word “verlor”
A verb “to verlor”, its warning for taking after…
Mistress of May, in the heart of hearts I believe
Only in whistles of winds kissing my curtains,
Ultima omnia credit – the ace in my sleeve
Ringleted lightness of mind through the silent autumns.
I wanna be LILAC this season and get your smile
Melting under the fingers of winds on my silky flovers
Petals not four but five due to my lucky style
Over your palms pressing in sunny hours…
Silent and silky, simple and shy to sing
Sorry to spare your time on my silly phrases…
I’m gonna present with a chuckle the all I’ve seen:
Beautiful glimpses- the sun and the rays he raises…
Listening – yours – is the highest price of this shaky stair…
Et moi, je voudrais être à cent pieds sous terre.
24 мая 2010