Alien dreams tribute to O. Medvedev

Often i'm haunted by alien dreams,
Higher than mine and brighter,
Dream i of roofs and of secret rooms,
Soaring copper kites.
Dream i at times that i'm not myself,
I'm no more the writer
Nor the composer of my own song,
My own days and nights.
Sing to me, beautiful, i'm silly but not naive,
Heed not what my empty head portends.
Winds of the East in that hollow vastness forever live,
Gales that bring the summer to our lands.

Billowing sails and untrodden trails -
Perfect anti-depressant,
Why should i bother with human griefs,
Meaningless common grid?
Dream i of tempests, of moving seas,
Powerful and incessant,
Dream i of leaving this "real" world,
Simply renouncing it.
Sing to me, beautiful, of summer and cotton high,
Sing of believing in yesterday.
Sing of my flight, for i never flee but i often fly,
Finding and losing reasons along the way.

Dream i of jungles and heaving decks,
Stains on the flat horizon,
Dream i of tiny Pinoy consort
Waiting for me ashore.
Dream i at times that my dreams come true,
Dream that i watch them rising,
Gaining momentum and weight and might,
Ever and ever more.
Sing to me, beautiful, i'm leaving, you tag along -
That's just an interim, not the end.
Sing to me, i'll be glad to hear your Tagalog
Full of important fables to comprehend.


Рецензии
.I am a writer no more

Зус Вайман   02.09.2018 11:02     Заявить о нарушении
"I'm no more the writer of..." Читаем дальше переноса строки.

Марк Левитин   15.02.2024 22:12   Заявить о нарушении
Мы были молоды в 2018

Зус Вайман   16.02.2024 07:19   Заявить о нарушении