You’re gone, I’m stranded in a desert,
Succumbed to a sizzling sand.
From now on no celebrations
By my benumbed tongue.
I don’t regret of what has happened,
Your rank I recognized:
Yes, you’re my Galilee of dwelling,
I’m your un-risen Christ.
And let the others fondle you, loving,
Let multiply wild chat:
The Son of Man has no knowing,
Where he might rest his head.
May 1907/May 2023
* * *
Ты отошла
vip09/05/2023
Aleksandr Blok - You re gone, I m stranded
© Copyright: Виктор Постников, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123050902423
Свидетельство о публикации №123050902423
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