Letters to the Russian friend

This poem inspired by I. Brodsky and his "Letters to the Roman friend" and dedicated to my friend Mikhail K.

Windy skies disturb the water making ripple like chessboard,
Autumn like forgotten daughter takes the bloom without word.
Times have came, my friend, when seasons bother our hearts no less
Then another shift of nearby gracely fluttering girl’s dress.

It’s well known that you will never find embracing consolation
In the arms of not so clever girls with doubtful reputation.
Take your time, you know, no person ruins borders of our souls —
There are no desires of weak flesh, trust me, keep your heartlids closed.

Come to mine for red wine drinking, tasting some bit sourdough bread.
We will share the old time stories, may have snack of plums instead.
Dreaming on the grass together we’ll be watching clear star-fold.
Take your time, and I’ll tell why constellations have been called.

And my soul is not believing that our way is may confined —
Could the noise of waves competing only with the sounds of pine?
Could it be that not our vessel sailing bays and fighting air?
No, my friend, the blackbird’s twitting always in the cypress hair.

04.09.2023