To Luba Yamskaya
Adieu! I no more desire
To be your page, your servant and your boy,
And I, indeed, will not try to aspire
To bring you pleasure for your sinful joy.
I let you go, o Muse; I burn our bonds.
Fly! Fly away and soar in the heights.
But you should know: of you I was so fond!
My heart bleeds in the pink smoke of your flight.
July, 2011
A Farewell
© Copyright: Хабибулло-Евгений Киселев, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120113003164
Свидетельство о публикации №120113003164
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