to parents
Dedicated to my parents:
Sanzharov Parfyon Aleksandrovich
and Sanzharova Olga Ivanovna
Yes, SOLDIER’s a custom word,
A soldier, you feel with soul,
It sounds Russian, native, and already heard
Such as we have with you, in whole!
Time to Rest
Only now I started to find out,
That we have come to the line.
In the calendar I cross out,
Like holidays which have passed by.
No, I’m not used to be broken,
To cry about day which have gone,
We will be more than once again woken
On crest like a fish in a pond.
Old age has come insensibly,
Let the orchestra play its best,
To symbolize, of course,
That we should have a rest.
We will not portray patriots,
Everything has its time and place.
We should give away our governance,
The youth is striding ahead!
The Sail
The mist in the storm…
Or the storm in the mist…
The gale has arisen,
And tore up the cloth.
Watch crew dashed into battle,
Upon shrouds and sailyards,
To safe themselves
From devil’s claws.
Sails and sails
They are waving on yardarm,
As though they struggle
To throw their cadets,
The future steersmen,
Who are pulling the gantline,
And harden their temper
In the hurricanes.
Sails and sails
The watch crew is able
To safe their ship
From devil’s claws.
And the silence again,
Calm sea and sun makes warm
The cadets, fellows,
Who battled on the rail
For the life of their ship,
The ship on sails!
All-colored Palette
The painter and the poet is one creature,
They want to foresee palette of days,
Palette of joy, of love and wishes,
Palette of jolly rays.
They do not want to paint it
in dark colors,
Palette itself is of different shades.
I’d like to say that people of all nations
Should live in friendship
and in grace.
The planet is large, a lot of space…
So why are peoples in conflict?
It’s better nature mysteries embrace,
And far-away planets to conquer!
October
October gilded trees again
And murmurs softly with a stream,
October rain on a window-pane
Is a fare-well of autumn dream.
No Going Round in Circles…
Oh, how I want sometimes to stop,
But I can’t afford…
No going round in circles in my life.
My body’s aging,
But the thoughts are getting fit,
So, go onward…
Without honors
And without greed.
Strange Weather
So strange weather,
Nature’s dancing outside,
Though grey clouds are around,
And the wind doesn’t want to subside.
And the trees are so severe,
As though lashing with a whip,
Little hares tired of jumping
Under bushes are asleep.
Poppies greet us with a bow,
And invite us to hopak,
Camomiles stand in a row
Dancing funny krakowiak.
All the nature is awaken:
It turned into circle dance,
Maybe it’s imagination,
No, the gate gives rattling sound.
The wind bounced to the heavens
To the opened doors,
Wrapped itself into clouds-feathers
And stole a horse.
The sun started to smile at us,
Coming into its force,
And the hares here woke up,
The grass rose forth.
Do not forget…
I look at the portrait
in a black mournful frame
And I do not believe,
that your end to you came,
I do not believe,
that you are not here,
As though for me
all sunrises disappear
Mother, dearest friend,
only late I regret,
That I couldn’t in time
from misfortune protect.
I didn’t value enough
all your motives and hopes
And I used to tell you,
there are others like me,
That there’s everything in life,
both darkness and sun
And I always forgot,
that you are the only one.
That you, mother, is the only one
both now and later on,
That you are mother when
the
