The night is white

[посвящаю Петербургу, родному, чужому, близкому...]

I wouldn’t say it’s holding me –
The man of stone empathy,
The monument of raving clouds,
Paradoxical misery,
Where night is weirdly undark;
And day is obscure beast of bark…

While it’s already deeply nighttime
And oh, the most early morn,
I see the pale twilight roaming
Behind the curtains from the mall,
And sky is dirty flesh indigo,
Blurred by the brush of shades’ vertigo,
Rolling from ceiling to the floor –
The fundament for gravely passion –
Like playing skulls in juggler’s weird expression
In foreign lights envenoming the heart…
O, here is one of most stranded nights!
And it is white…
Even if grey…
It doesn’t matter how they say…

I have another view of things…
Well, like a cat who jumps and swings
Upon the moon with trembling mews,
I hang and rocking by the wind
Somewhere on island of distress,
Where willow tree confess my mess
With stretching out helping hand –
The rope around my throat is set –
My feet are closer to the ground,
Where carnage feast consumes the sound,
And through the mucus on my eyes
I cast the image of grotesque
And move it to my lips in trance,
Trying to hear some rebound
From outer mind
Before I die
O, in this kind of faked light,
Who steals the color of the night,
And now it’s white,
And rather grey…
It doesn’t matter how they say…

Enormous pressure strikes my brain…
Don’t e’er get used to ugly pain!
Or if you need a penetration
Call to the place of exploration
And make them sick of all your thoughts,
Until they’re fur’ous with your words…

It’s sleeping time – my soul denial…
Some dear friends baptized exiles,
Some closer even far from here,
Where agony and evil veil compassion…
Exhume if can find
My psyche on the other side
Just to return to flesh and bones,
To smell of roses in my dreams,
To violent intoxication
With erotic obsessive wills,
To ebony of night religion!
Far and away it’s my addiction,
When I can’t run without feeling
The touch of innocent goodbye,
The image of unknown beauty,
Which makes me cry in hatred and devotion…
Tonight I drink the potion to relieve
Of something weird that clouded my heartbeat,
While making last one kiss into the air,
Into the night
Well, it is white,
More likely grey…
It doesn’t really matter how they say…