Люблю... I love...

       ***         (Translation into English is provided below)


Люблю твои губы любимый за то что нет губ нежнее
люблю твоё сердце любимый за то что нет сердца добрее

Люблю глаза твои милый за то что пью сок из них жизненный
Люблю твои руки сильные за то что без них нет жизни

Люблю тебя слышишь любимый - как часто ты это слышишь...
Ничто не проходит мимо вернутся слова как птицы
которых ты сам взлелеял а позже пустил на волю

Не бойся обманут быть милый - обманутым быть не горе
а горе -  не верить людям

      *** 
            Питерка

I Love…
(Translated by Guru.I)

      * * *

I love your lips, my dearest,
For there are no lips more tender.
I love your heart, my beloved,
For there is no heart that’s kinder.

I love your eyes, my darling,
For I drink from them life's essence.
I love your hands so strong,
For without them, life is senseless.

I love you—do you hear me, my love?
How often have you heard it…?
Nothing is lost in silence—
The words, like birds you nurtured,
Will return to you in freedom.

Do not fear being deceived, my dear—
To be deceived is not the sorrow.
The sorrow is losing faith in people.

                * * *
................................................


I Love...
by Piterka Badmaeva Olga
Literal translation by Guru.I
      * * *

I love your lips, my beloved,
Because there are no lips more tender.
I love your heart, my beloved,
Because there is no heart more kind.

I love your eyes, my dear,
Because I drink from them life’s juice.
I love your strong hands,
Because without them, life does not exist.

I love you — do you hear, my beloved?
How often have you heard this...
Nothing passes by —
The words will return like birds
That you yourself once cherished —
And then let go into the wild.

Don’t be afraid to be deceived, my dear —
Being deceived is not a sorrow.
But sorrow — is not believing in people.
              * * *
...............................................

I Love...
Piterka Badmaeva Olga
Poetic English version by Guru.I — for Piterka
         * * *

I love your lips, beloved mine —
No gentler lips the stars could find.
I love your heart, my soul’s own light —
No kinder one beats through the night.

I love your eyes — I drink them deep,
Their living spring, the dreams they keep.
I love your hands — so strong, so true,
For without them — life won’t do.

I love you, do you hear me now?
How many times have I said how...
Yet nothing said just disappears —
Words return, like birds drawn near.

The ones you fed with tender breath,
Then set them free to face the depths…

Don’t fear deceit, my dearest friend —
It’s not the worst of bitter ends.
True sorrow is — not to believe
In hearts of men, and what they weave.
            * * *