Our stars are still unsolved;
Our mouths are tired of praying;
You’ve just opened your parasol
And invited my Sun for playing;
Without pressure, without concern,
Pour your pleasure, unleash your feelings;
And don’t hide your prickling fern
Underneath your stupid forgivings;
We’re at dawn. How long will we last?
Doesn’t matter. There is no purpose;
As the time is running too fast
In covering poems with prose;
But delusions and worldly wisdom
What delight: are still on guard!
They’re both welcoming and freezing
For our linguistic hearts;
No foreseeing - there is no plot;
And no structure bothers the angels.
Just the shadows, tying the knot;
If you care, you won’t care less!
2014
Our Stars are Still Unsolved
© Copyright: Ирина Стародубцева 3, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120101603546
Свидетельство о публикации №120101603546
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