My joyful chord

Юрий Лазирко
Lines of worry, stanzas’ cry,
"Rest in peace, my joyful chord!"
Angels licked their lips and piped,
rays reflected in the sword.

Brassy sounds were wind-exhaled,
jungle crowds had swallowed them.
Sense to verse as wrist to nail…
Cells are dressed in rime. I am

hoarding air and show supine
weakness in a trembled mind.
Skies beneath the blade are mine.
Over there the lies shall grind,

nothing seals the gap of life,
nothing stands behind a word.
Angels licked their lips and piped,
for the rays slid down the sword.

February 1, 2011


© Copyright: Юрий Лазирко, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111020109291
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Breathtaking verse Iouri.....I must say though that there is a great difference in meaning from the Russian verse to the English verse. So, it will mean something different to the different audiences. Quite unique. I enjoyed it and have missed your verses.

Love Sue

Мэтти Дубоис   02.02.2011 04:05   •   Заявить о нарушении
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Indeed, Sue.
The Russian version a a bit different.
I felt to have this version in English.
Thank you,
Iouri
See you on "Sonnets Was"

Юрий Лазирко   04.02.2011 01:20   Заявить о нарушении
I ment "Sonnet Wars" :)

Юрий Лазирко   05.02.2011 01:56   Заявить о нарушении
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