Cheat

I Muse said – You're a poet! –
 Came, smiled. She Said, " Write!" –
 But what? – she didn't, and I'm asking for advice
 Went through the dust deposits to the poets,
 Gathering dust in the library silence.
 
 And the poets gave me good advice:
 "Write about what you see and hear.
 About what you feel in your heart, write…
 And less often at the same time try to poets
 Walk for advice: more reliable advice
 Your same eyes, and ears, and souls…
 
 I stepped out of the library silence.
 She returned to the quiet of her office…
 What do I see?
 I see darkness without a light.
 What do I hear?"
 Heart beat in the silence of the grave.
 What do I feel?
 The pain of a lonely soul…
 But I don't want to describe it!
 It is not in this that I see the poet's vocation! –
 In the darkness without a break, in the grave silence
 He is called to be the sun-the source of light,
 Warmth and hope for eternal summer –
 For every heart and every soul!…
 
 And I can't be the source of light.
 I see only darkness in the darkness without a light,
 I can hear my heart pounding unanswered,
 And I feel the pain of a lonely soul…
 And what shall I shout in the silence of the grave?!
 About what to tell? Really-about this?…
 To whom and why should I tell this?…
 The hearts of lonely suffering somewhere,
 The hearts of lonely, angst-ridden somewhere,
 In the dark wandering in search of light
 And in search of peace of mind, –
 Why should they? They don't need it!
 Read – turn away-and throw the poet
 Gathering dust on a shelf in the deserted silence…
 
 Oh, no, I don't want to write about it!
 So... never be a poet to me.
 Lied to me, smile told: – Write!
 
 V. A.©2020