Unquenchable thirst of love…
Mikhail Godov


Nabokov Prize Library
This book is about an declaration of love to a wonderful woman in a classic sonnet style, in tradition, which goes all the way up to Francesco Petrarke, William Shakespeare, Ronsar, Bodler, Verlen and other famous masters of this genre.

And live a day…

This book is about many areas of life of humans, the full range of feelings experienced by each of us, but its leitmotif is love in all its faces.





Mikhail Alexeyevich Godov

Unquenchable thirst of love…

sonnet book





© M. Godov, 2020

© International Union of writers, 2020










Mikhail Godov – member of the Union of writers of Moscow, member of the International Union of Writers, poet, sonnet writer, author of over 800 sonnets (10 wreath of sonnets included), and many poems of different genres published in a series of poetic books: «faces of love», «symphony of love», «Learning how to love», «Idols», «Love without the world is closely», «The house of soul», «I am talking to you about eternity» (series «modern and classics») and laureate of many international all-Russian literary contests and the winner of awards: International literary award «The gold quill of Russia 2008» (Moscow), award Belinski 2019, participant of Moscow International Book Fair (MIBF) 2019, author of songs and romances of different genres in Russian and German.

Since 2001 the poet lives in Nuremberg, Germany.




Preamble


This book is about an endless declaration of love to a wonderful woman in a classic sonnet style, in tradition, which goes all the way up to Francesco Petrarke, William Shakespeare, Ronsar, Bodler, Verlen and other famous masters of this genre.

The insatiable appetite for this love is that strong, that it could not be quenched, because since it is quenched, the lyrical hero glows with this love again and again.

The image of the beloved takes shape of all women, who made all the poets crazy, plebs and royals who fell in love with them, ready for any craziness and escapades for this love and at the same time converted to the only beloved, whom the poet gives the confession of love!

But words transferred by the time machine from far epochs by sophisticated ladies in crinolines and gallant gentlemen in j ackets and frills sewed of gold, forgotten and unfamiliar, are suddenly starting sounding modern, personal and heartfelt that the real feeling comes up that there is no threat by naphthalene smelling chests, that in our time that is far away from sentimentality there is only this way of confessing love, that Romeo and Julia, our contemporaries, live anywhere among us…

AND LIVE A DAY…

sonnet wreath book

This book is about many areas of life of humans and humanity from their origin up to now, the full range of feelings experienced by each of us, but its leitmotif is love in all its faces and hypostasis!

The «shell» that includes all life collisions and feelings is the favourite genre of the poet: a sonnet presented in its most difficult, superior and very rare mode of wreath of sonnets. The book includes five of them and three thematic cycle of sonnets, called by the author with regard to their number: «octet of sonnets». All this makes the book unique in its form and content, since there are no other precedents in the Russian and international poetry for poetic books that includes only wreaths of sonnets and belongs to the quill of only one poet (as the group of compendium), not to mention the extreme rarity of this genre. As far as the translation is concerned, from Russian, the native language of the poet, into English, the challenge for the translator is initially extremely difficult as the poetic language used by the author is very demanding and in a perfect form with a binding classic rhyming that makes the translation much more challenging. And even though the translator mostly managed it to translate the content of the poetic material with maximum effort, the elegant, peculiar and original form of the poetry retains only partly, despite this doesn't make the acquaintance with this book of the flamboyant, distinctive author, less attractive for the English-speaking reader.




Unquenchable thirst of love…

sonnet book

(Part one)





The name of rose





Sonnet 1


		I wandered in the depth of garden alleys
		Went hat in hand to spirit of this place
		Among the statues, with their Gothic grace
		Among the splash of multi-coloured wearing

		The icon lamp of autumn there was lit.
		October ascended to its golden throne
		And yet the brightness wasn't gone
		Carried by winds, so boastful and so swift.

		In the array of asters, autumn flowers
		A thorn so sharply touched my heart
		That dark red rose, that velvet sight
		And then my shield and helmet lost their power

		This pain I still envision; as if so behoves,
		Caused by the rose, which name is love.




Sonnet 3


		Don't take for granted plain and trivial words,
		They are just mask, when seen with more attention,
		Don't take for granted casual, simple words
		Behind them – all my pain, all my affection

		Don't be confused with the indifferent tone,
		It's an attempt, although not trustworthy,
		To keep inside the loud, so unwilled moan…
		This pain I can't endure, you've left no mercy.

		To chat with you of trifles, little things,
		To be amusing and to burst in laughing
		To tell you just of lovely little things
		Make a pretense: such moments are just nothing

		But jokes…Take off the spell, I used to feel before,
		For I just can't keep silence anymore.




Sonnet 15


		Just touch my hand with hand of yours,
		And our hearts will feel this touching.
		I wish that we were so close,
		As only can be ones, who're loving.

		I wish that love could be for us
		The breathing, hearing, and vision,
		And blood in our veins, that runs,
		The flesh and spirit of our living.

		Don't let it leave us, don't let away,
		Don't let it fade beyond a distance,
		I want to experience each grain
		Of love, each sad and happy instance.

		To share with Her fate and fame,
		Until the last anguish and pain.




Sonnet 17


		Simplicity we often take for nonsense
		And we're ashamed to say the gentle words
		We hide our souls, we're probably unconscious
		Of this, afraid of souls confidingly unclosed

		It's difficult for us to talk in style
		Of Romeo and Juliette, without tension.
		We think since then the centuries has gone by
		In other way life's writing its inventions

		So let it be, and I've no intent to argue
		Yes. Different is the World, where we belong
		And my affection I am also hiding
		Ashamed, as if Shakespeare's words were wrong,

		The storm of feeling takes my power of speech…
		Those tender words, extremely hard to reach.




Sonnet 19


		You are entirely unexpected,
		Your voice, your smile, your sudden gesture…
		You are entirely unexpected

		Like sent to me occasionally, good letter.
		Like summer breath, like see and love itself
		Like hope in the dark hour of despair,
		You're going and returning then,

		More cherished, as before you were.
		And all this takes my breath away,
		Of this white flame of fondness and much pain…
		Just fly, like poplar fluff in May,
		Not knowing of sadness and restraint…

		As miracle of life, you are so treasured
		Life can't be captured, as it runs unmeasured!




Sonnet 20


		Don't harrow my soul, it's deepest part
		So wrongfully, with sagebrush-bitter doubt,
		Don't it let be occasionally cut,
		This tenuous thread, by which our hearts are bound.

		Don't tear the ties that join us,
		For their living tissue's very fragile,
		For we shall not restore them at once
		By growing them, so real, so agile.

		In our hearts. Let envy, that old witch
		Cast her aspersions, splattering the poison:
		No one but madman trust the rumors, which
		Are spread around. Only love is worthy

		Of all your trust. Leave jealousy behind
		With our love it cannot be combined!




Sonnet 21


		When hands are joined in embrace,
		And eyes are in the endless sight
		Don't let our words just stir that very bright
		And clear minute with their feebleness

		That minute when in one heartbeat
		Two hearts will burst and fade again.
		So queer, it defies our trying to explain
		Words are but shadows, shifting, incomplete…

		When in the fire of self-immolation
		One twinkle with eternity can melt,
		Though our language is so vain, but let
		Your voice is as a fascination:

		With pain, and self-forgetfulness, and mirth
		No words one hears can be more inmost!




Sonnet 24


		Near the well I'm bowing down
		And touch it with my lips, so thirsty
		I'm drawing this uneven line
		Like bridge between us, frail and frosty

		And step on it, for you I start
		Each step on rope above the cirque.
		I'm falling down in the spotlight
		I'll take all agony and hurt.

		Which can't be stronger, the unhidden
		Fact that I am alive and craving.
		This deadly risk I'm happily taking
		For chance to see with you the Eden

		I'll pay the painful price of falling
		For twinkle of my freely soaring!




Sonnet 10


		That moment sky swung very slow
		Apart. The ground slipped away
		Don't leave me, love, now please don't go
		We used to share shining days!

		Don't leave the distant dreams I saw
		The songs and all the lines of mine
		Don't you desert me, love, don't go:
		The world with you is so divine!

		And only when blood in my veins
		Is cold, and when my soul's in flight,
		Then you, my love, is free to leave
		But only at my last goodbye

		Though even at the edge of being
		Love will remain my clear daydream.




Sonnet 86


		Yes, you can act as you are willing,
		All of your faults I will forgive,
		But I will never let you leave,
		Though of goodbye you're now thinking,

		You'll turn with this our passion in close linking
		By testing its impedance with no fright.
		Like fierce wind blow in the depth of night
		Will set the fire glowing and twinkling,

		As thirst becomes extreme and so endless,
		When for some hours we let it last,
		Thus our affection will not pass,
		For flame of mine is so quenchless

		The heart just can't agree and can't surrender
		To fate, when love's so vivid and so tender.




Sonnet 87


		King in exile remains a king,
		This is remembered by the crowd and court
		But beggars, even with the golden ring
		Deserve the fortune of the wailsome sort

		The fortune's folly is a sound reason
		But our life is constantly in change
		Here reigns and rules His Majesty The Chance
		Above all transient, perishable, fleeting.

		All comes to end: the fame and honour
		Will turn to nothing francs, pounds, doubloons
		The currency quite solid is the only
		The lovers' coins have a pretty tune,

		It throws you down, then you're high above,
		That golden coin with the name of Love!




Sonnet 67


		I search for a pin in stake of hay
		I search for love in disregard,
		And under foam search for champagne
		And nightingale beyond green buds,

		The naked body under clothes
		And essence hidden by the glare
		A little hope among despair
		And rhymes arranged in even rows

		I search for violet in the graveyard
		Find for my building ground so charred,
		Encounters, brighter, then goodbyes
		I crave for liberty and spell

		I search for a pin in stake of hay
		I search for love in disregard.




Sonnet 75


		I long for passion to be shared
		And still I suffer all this thirst
		It's so insatiable. I dare
		To reach love's temple, so inmost

		Pray to your eyes, your silhouette
		And deepest secret of the wame
		I pray as restlessly as that
		Naivety's in all I say.

		I pray insanely, without measure
		I'm whispering to you each sentence.
		Love is the only creed I treasure —
		I tell in worship and entrancement!

		I long to melt with you in it
		So our prayer'll be complete.




Sonnet 89


		A pilgrim, philosopher, free-liver and poet
		Enamored of ladies and art,
		I've been living here forever, I know it,
		Though now life of mine seems to start.

		This world is so cruel, so wicked and fierce,
		Where sweat with the blood flows down.
		But God's in my heart, that is known to exist,
		And people would name it Love.

		Yes, if not for it, what's the reason for me
		To enter this world, to be born?!
		The cover of treachery, scary to see
		Was not meant by me to be worn.

		No, life is a miracle, growing above
		The blood and the tears – the sprouts of love!




Sonnet 94


		Here are again love's traps and tricks
		Predicting them is not so easy.
		Which stranger's face can love depict:
		Of meretrix or the Mona Lisa?

		And even if you're duke of Guise
		Even if you're as smart as a whip
		Then all the same the lovely whims
		You will fulfill and act likewise:

		Along the ledge you'll go, so pleasing
		And sign so tender serenades,
		And kiss her footprints and her shade
		In Paris, London, or in Piza…

		Amour, you'll finally take your crop
		Love is the thing you can't fend off.




Sonnet 105

Love and music


		I'm finally given to my love
		As I am given to the tune
		And I am yielding to the tune.
		As I am yielding to my love,

		For love and melody in me —
		Integrally they live and sound
		Like face so dear that I found
		Like fervent voice, so close as can be…

		They still resound in my soul
		Like lust for life and lust for happiness
		Like first oblation in your presence
		But if sounds fade, so far and small

		Then soul of mine will be deserted
		Like empty stage with went down curtain…




Sonnet 111


		Each thing's subject to rhythm returning
		The clothes, tune and poet's lines
		If not for them, much harder could be life
		Like that of warrior with no tunic

		The bottle of wine and the ale barrel
		You cannot fill beyond the brim,
		By winter fall the leaves of sallow
		And even Edem's too small for Eve

		Now all the heirs of Procrustes
		Would like to put me in the pencil case
		My bones they're breaking, very crusty
		But only soul they cannot chase.

		It is like aeon, all embracing
		But with no love it has no basing!




Sonnet 113


		Things have their cost, it's known
		In dollars, euros, cheques and cash.
		Thing have become so wiery, monotone,
		The ghost of lucre is turning all to ash

		I guess that is no place for bargain,
		Where hate and envy're mixed with greed.
		For me such life is very small and tangled
		I'm used to other count, another creed.

		And casting off the profits of transaction
		Which boil in one's soul and blood
		I never buy the fame or admiration,

		My Lord, such fate can be the true attraction:
		To pay for love with coins of affection!




Sonnet 116


		Yes, beauty is so multi-faced,
		So multifold and so diverse
		So evidently evanescent,
		Ingenious and so plain

		The pattern of the maple leave
		And ornament on crystal goblet… —
		The soul was craving for each droplet,
		And were yearning the eyes and lips.

		In the daylight or dream so fluid
		Descended slowly from the skies
		The earthborn women, said so lucid:

		Just touch my lips with lips of yours
		In love all beauty now occurs!




Sonnet 118


		The universe of Love to bear
		Isn't easy for the most of us.
		It's easier with Gavroche's glair
		To keep on go wearing the junks

		But even if the dignity you show
		Can't cover even your dress suit
		You soul, which is almost gone,
		Bereft of love your beggar's rout!

		All your attempt are good for nothing
		And all your luck is just in vain
		The circle of life where you keep running
		Where all you courage's senseless strain

		But sense in each thing can be found
		While entering love's endless current!




Sonnet 119


		I pray to smoke-blue bush of lilac
		I pray to apple-tree in bloom
		I worship Lord's ingenious findings
		And glorify the beauty's grove.

		The beauty, clear and pristine
		That tempts us through the centuries
		Like lady's precious memory
		Like lovely eyelids flickering

		Like Rose's scent so fragrant.
		Oh, flight of butterfly, so frail!
		For me you always will be sacred
		Soul always looks for beauty's trail

		The whole world it can roll down
		But love is still its only crown!




Sonnet 120


		The harvest time is now near…
		Ripe fruit are hanging from the tree
		In hands of your entirely giving
		Themselves, so generous, as can be.

		With yellow wax shine garden pears.
		And apples're burning like the flame.
		They turn to me and soul's embarrassed,
		They now have so much to tell

		About something long-awaiting,
		About something so concealed,
		About the endless, never fading
		About life, about myself…

		I fell the rhythm of universe
		And the love's essence so inmost…




Sonnet 121


		The beauty has become my faith:
		My pray to Her is endless.
		It is for Her I'll put on chains
		And step on pilgrim's path

		It's before Her on my knees I'll bow
		At Her virtuous holy things,
		Where the clearest water's falling down
		With sagebrush like honey, bitter-sweet,

		Where lilies gleam so white, so far away,
		The haystacks smell so fine
		Yes, beauty is my faith
		And the Woman is divine!

		All worship is entirely for her,
		None kind of beauty is inmost that more!




Sonnet 126


		This is secret, so luring and burning
		This is marvelous centuple oval
		This is tender and ardent smile,
		Which, due to fate's inconceivable turnings

		Tempting us with the lust that still lasts
		Curing us as a goblet of balm
		In the soul tender flowing chant
		The concord of the skies consonance:

		Carefully drafted, sculpted and carved
		Some greatest artist, with true inspiration
		All this heavenly grace incarnation
		In each women I hoped to find

		All this grace for entire immersion
		In Love's light, in my inner devotion!




Sonet 130


		From lovely lips reproach's not a reproach
		Although it hurts more painfully and deeper.
		But bitter words for you I will not search
		And hit the target with my shot so meanly.

		Hard feelings will not shade my eyes.
		And anger won't take unawares my mind.
		My heart won't be deceived with tone hostile
		Won't quench in soul the love song sound.

		I used to be much easier to hurt
		But since that time I things have changed a lot
		God give the blessing for the ones in love
		And teach them to forgive, and seek forgiveness!

		For penance isn't derogation, is this?
		Thus faith expects the blessing from above…




Sonnet 133


		To feel eventually love's fever
		In all your blood, in all your cells,
		So, that you soul's entirely speechless
		And take the life as gift you can't expel

		To give yourself completely in response
		Like Romeo and Juliette, every instant
		Trouveres, poets and you, minstrels!
		Your love was strong without repose

		Shakespeare, Ronsard, Petrarka, Dante
		How wonderfully love was elegized
		Like Rafael's' divine and pure art
		Talent of Love, so high and so sacred

		Oh, Lord, just give me such a blessing
		In love with love to bring Her my confessing!




Sonnet 132

Sonnet of power


		And here I see the large tenth-bared jaw…
		Oh, how such a vision is disgusting
		Here's a though, inside my mind it grows
		That «power» is the predator, so lusty.

		When torturing of victims, strength and power,
		Still hiding beast's appearance under guise
		It, even if at scandalous expiry
		It keeps on stealing, keeps on telling lies.

		And there is no darker deed than this
		And there is the greatest of misfortunes
		More scary than the virus, is the greed
		Of power, in its uncontrolled disorder.

		The power rests on mud and blood
		And only power of love
		I praise…




Sonnet 135


		The theme of love and jealousy is old:
		It goes back to Adam and Eve.
		In every home this drama is perceived.
		And victims grind by these millstones…

		The jealous one himself is cause of torment
		And even crown will not keep him still
		Desdemona with no guilt was killed,
		Though she was faithful to the great extent.

		She closes the vicious circle of the love
		Her name is written as the love's true sister.
		But as her brother iron there glistered —
		So many hands that love has stained with blood!

		But no, of love I have another vision:
		The one I love, I trust with no excision!




Sonnet 136


		Love can't be jealous, as the passion can:
		The passions puts the hidden traps
		To which fall even those experienced
		With words of Iago, don't lie, don't condemn!

		Oh jealousy, you choose your prey from us
		And our hearts are painful and so hurt,
		You play the drum in rage, but now stop,
		Don't hurt the feeling by absurd mistrust

		The passion is the despot, so merciless
		No tyranny, which can be more wayward
		But love is balm, the therapy and ward
		Of all the soul's wounds, of all the turbulence,

		The Love is graceful, kind, but the most upheaval
		Brings jealousy, much envy and much evil.




Sonnet 137


		The love is free, such is its essence
		When flows, even stones break:
		The wall destroys and the defences:
		No shield is left for me to take!

		I wanted to erase her features
		And to forget… But then my heart
		Will ache and will cry out loud
		Nostalgia, the ghostly creature!

		I can't find help in the oblivion,
		By which I tried (while it was trifle)
		To hide the feeling, to forget… —
		But I give up and here's my chest:

		Well. Love is just a worthy rival
		To end my life, so sad, so trivial.




Sonnet 138


		Oh, can my affection be a sin
		When deep in love I lose myself
		No sinner is who duff and dumb
		Who cannot love and cannot feel

		Who laughs at highest words of love
		Who dear lady's eyes dislikes
		And lips of hers is not enjoying
		Who doesn't know the love's folly

		That one just lives in vain his life.
		And I recall now and again
		The Romeo and Juliette story
		These children's love was so involving
		And even death had brought them fame

		I drink a toast to loving souls
		Indifference is the greatest fault…




Sonnet 139


		Yes. Cupid shoots so randomly, but sure
		Defeating, dazzling everyone,
		Love potion's easy to be done:
		For youngster and for someone mature,

		For nun, for gigolo, no matter
		They all will suffer passion's pricks
		But the love's suit… Here's nothing better:
		And haute couture's extremely cheap!

		Cupid, your genre is operetta.
		You shoot the movies bright and splendid,
		You are the favourite of all ladies:
		Life's grey with you, and I don't flatter!

		And I'm subject to passion too
		I fell in love, so now I do…




Sonnet 144


		To you, oh, ladies, whom I loved
		All songs and sonnets're dedicated
		You're muses who inspire all created
		And Lord had sent me blessing from above.

		Yes, I was dumb, then fire of affection
		Revoked the answer in my soul
		So Earth before the dawn, so still, it is just waiting
		But with the first ray clamour will unroll

		Since then the Love's my genius and judge
		And beauty is my highest mentor
		And soul of mine, the humble shelter
		Is filled with feeling, I can't hide,

		I sing the praise, but not in vain
		Each line is warmed with loving flame!




Sonnet 145


		Oh, that's indeed is a kind of torture
		The bow touches vibrant chords…
		The violinist's young, but each accord
		Resounds like a voice of fortune.

		And gently violin surrenders
		And he is ardent, as a hun
		And wise, just like the runes creator.
		Soul, like a snail, went to the sun

		And opens up towards the music
		And, trembles like a singing violin,
		The spell of music make her sing
		She soared, clear and illusive

		In glowing worlds, so high above
		When filled with miracle of love…




Sonnet 146


		These autumn flowers in vase:
		Bright asters, roses, bunch of cranesbill…
		I give respect to nature thus —
		Which joins forms and author's will.

		I make attempt in every phrase
		To surface facets so precise,
		That filigree would not entice
		Won't be deceptive as the strase.

		So that like diamond, perfect sense,
		Was clear and concise, not flabby,
		And sacred as the walls of abbey…
		Oh Lord, give me talent and such strength

		To vent the soul enchanted cry!
		So lucid to all passing by…




Sonnet 148


		I crave to know all people as the dearest ones
		To realize the events inner wheels
		To see effect and reason, evident and clear:
		I want to be, more sapient and wise.

		Absurd's the monster, scariest of all!
		…And due to it men draw their swords —
		Because of it all funeral and grief,
		And people are more fierce the beasts!

		And cry of woe is now in vain,
		No word can ever reach their ears:
		Cause now's deafness for our souls to tear!
		Misunderstanding is the endless chain…

		And I grew week before the locked front door…
		But love had found the key so long ago!




Sonnet 149


		There's time for everything and turn:
		And summer follows the spring's route,
		As night's successor, comes the dawn
		And the ovary becomes the fruit.

		The clocks tick on, and thus each moment,
		Dictates us sequence of the lines.
		And words are linked within the sonnet.
		And generations grow and die.

		Haste is the ghostly, bad mistake
		And lingering is just a guilt.
		And every failure and success:
		As a pirouette on sandy brink

		But breaking all the terms and frames,
		Love definitely will come in May!




Sonnet 150


		Love is a battle without mercy
		Without tears of compassion.
		Intrigues, snaring, fire of passion… —
		Through all the times, in all the verses.

		During the starry sleepless nights,
		The serenades are sung for Her.
		But under cloak the blade does blur
		Blood flows as scarlet as the wine.

		The Love, the treachery's strong ally
		And such al luring as naiads
		Seduces us to escapades
		And passion's cup becomes so dry

		With no regard to young and senior…
		But happy is the one, who did surrender!




Sonnet 151


		Seems like the gift I hear your voice:
		The art of note and speech around:
		In Forerunner's mouth how did you sound!
		How did you wake the hearts' rejoice!

		And young and old were rise by feet,
		And they were going under shells:
		Rumor was like a furnace flames,
		How did you kindle ardent heat!

		The Christ, The Circe, Demosthenes,
		Grand Opera, La Scala, Covent Garden…
		The ship was lead right on the rigs so hardened,
		When helmsman heard the Sirens' sing… —

		You really have ambrosian treat!
		But I love most your voice's being sweet…




Sonnet 152


		My eyes! What's for your roaring crying?!
		Why so much salt humidity in you?!
		You didn't pass Butyrka, Gulags too…
		Who is your punisher, who is defying?!

		Oh, heart! Where do you rush tantivy?
		By strike of sword it's felt such pain!
		What kind of blood turns red… on paper's stain?
		– Where is this dawdler doctor?! Hurry, do actively!

		And why is my brain now so inflamed?
		What woe does bother his poor mind?
		His mind just cannot bear it, it's bind.
		Like Hamlet I'm, by madness, tamed!

		How can I overthrow tyranny power?!
		That's what you've done to me – the fervor…




Sonnet 153


		End of the battle, the fighting roar faded:
		The last redoubts are yield to enemy —
		Within some minutes everything was destined —
		The scalade was so rampant and so dashing!

		The hero fought with courage of the three
		And being captured tried to break the tether:
		His veins were swollen of such efforts! —
		Such metaphors're tremendous as can be.

		That's the result: defeated and so mean,
		He was much calmer, than a little lamb:
		Inside his nostrils they put rings
		He went so humble behind them.

		That one's insane, who once confronted feelings
		I gave my all to you, no armour concealing…




Sonnet 155


		The frantic flame was burning down
		And fire tumbled as if in rage.
		And not so less was all its power:
		Each moment made it fade away.

		As if a hungry wolf, it used to tear
		All that it could get into its jaw,
		And all was turning into smoke
		With which the soul was seared…

		Thus, everything burned down to ashes:
		And there was left only some embers —
		A gulp of water in the thimble:
		Though ashes still so slightly glimmered…

		I poked it – and it suddenly appeared:
		The passion's burnt, but love is here




Sonnet 185


		And poetry, and nature, and truelove… —
		I have divided between you the year.
		Look: all the words are feminine here:
		For still with women I'm in love!

		I'm serving them gratuitously:
		I don't expect awards and otherness
		Though, race female is such an abyss!
		I'm ready sink into it happily:

		To plunge in love, as to the pool, and then
		To reach the shining, highest peaks
		And languish with the timeless thirst…
		This is the real lot for men!

		No other greater thing! I've be won:
		The rank «enamored» the highest one!




The love itself's invited as a witness





Sonnet 213


		As witness love itself I call,
		And I devote all thoughts to her alone,
		I feel it in my heart and bones,
		I live in world only her all!

		Afloat she'll keep me,
		The time I sink into her arms,
		The time I step on the abyss's edge for harms
		When live in vain and ditch my soul too dreamy…

		I'll blissfully exchange for moment's love,
		Those vain desires a ridiculous crowd
		And to her knees ardently bowed,
		And kissing her, and foot above…

		As witness love itself I call,
		I live in world only her all!




Sonnet 214


		To go out dry of water:
		It is not possible to play:
		You have to pay for all this anyway
		But you can't count the moves in advance like author.

		What's at the door? – Touch it, come in!
		There someone's waiting, waiting, will not wait!
		There happiness like bird is beating in the grate!
		Just go away, away… – that voice's whispering.

		Should you have something or shouldn't worry?
		For possession itas loss, which you can see…
		So are you ready pay such fee?! —
		To mad and dare you're to hurry!

		Let for love reward the pain of separation:
		For moment's love, I'll take all tribulations!




Sonnet 226


		Neither sparkle's jewels' glows:
		Emerald, brilliant and sapphire;
		Nor masters' diligent labor in fire,
		Weaving miracle clothes;

		Or neither oil of all sorts' rubbing,
		Which gives the tenderness to skin;
		No couturier's famous work must be,
		Nor hairdressers' tryings;

		Nor bathing in the pink bathtub
		Among the petals carnations' and roses'
		And neither spirits any narcosis,
		Nor brow's being arched and dub —

		Do not multiply so fascinating
		Like look that's Love's pacification!




Sonnet 228


		Everything that a child asks for, being shoveling,
		For what the coquette gives feigning game,
		And anything to have for someone is not shame
		That's suddenly and rashly costs propelling,

		What's just a whim for man's being rich,
		And any vain and absurd whim,
		And any shameful sinful seem
		(For what it's must to spend for doctor's speech),

		Any desires, furious agility, it means,
		And career, deal, success and treason —
		Everything on earth has its price and reason:
		For money you can buy all things…

		But nightingales don't sing for money:
		And you can't buy true love's the moment honey!




Sonnet 230


		The passion's madness can obscure mind,
		And him, be joking, taking on the muzzle-sight:
		But passion had a mind trapped through all the days and nights,
		The passion in the mind you cannot find!

		So putting people into frantic temptation,
		And passion's life mindlessly spends for small mite
		And tears flow down the pillow during midnight
		In mad thirst for passionate ecstasy's ocean…

		Love, like a precious vase,
		Keeps divine drink itself:
		Mind doesn't tolerate from love to loss oneself,
		It just goes back to the highest phase!

		And love and passion always bound:
		Without love, the passion is a misfortune you can found…




Sonnet 231


		Languishing, willing and be getting crazy,
		To lose your mind from your mad passion
		And gasping madly from happiness flashing:
		I have the feelings' prison for all the freedoms more amazing!

		Love ramblings and frenzy of passion —
		Is my home in the middle of the storm, bad weather…
		But passion subdues all by cruel power whether:
		You do not dare to argue back to her expression…

		And what's the dignity and scepter of the king to her!
		He boasts on her in vain with power:
		She shamelessly on him naked shoulder
		He's grieving, groans in the passion's throes and fears…

		But power of passion is short and vicious:
		Just power of love is forever empowered and vitious!




Sonnet 232


		So over years, wine has aged in barrel
		And it gets taste which is unique.
		And time drafts race indelible like creak:
		Not possible to blot out mortals there.

		That time your youth can blush your cheeks —
		It gives our life indomitable heat.
		But what about brilliance of the mind, which gives maturity in meet,
		She cannot find, alas, or seek.

		For pawn, the path is always winding into queens.
		A priceless diamond – stone without cut.
		But ages from the canvas don't erase the paint and do not shut:
		A hundred years old stagnant masterpiece!

		Over the years, feelings get maturity:
		Except of traits of love – there's nothing in the world more perfect and saturity!




Sonnet 235


		Oh, take pity, passion, take off me the spell!
		Oh, no, extend, extend your captivity!
		Days and nights at knees in front of your superiority:
		I barely breathe; the world became as narrow as the cell…

		And I conclude an eternity in my arms:
		An ordinary mortal – trample on ashes!
		Losing my mind, calm and got no wishes:
		And what will happen – I won't hear alarms!

		I live a moment, dissolving in it,
		I shiver in chill and feel the heat
		And, like a madman, I believe a mirage,
		But I don't even dare to lie with a sigh!

		And by every word to the feeling pilgrimage:
		And all who love – is for me nigh…




Sonnet 251


		Night mist: how it wakes wishes,
		How incites passion in the chest! —
		Come to my earnest embrace:
		After all, thirsty lips are for passion flashes!

		Hurry aside impediment of costume —
		By bareness my body cool!
		О mind, do not judge the flesh as fool:
		She is weak, her deeds are sinful, I presume.

		And yet, where, hypocrite, you see a sin? —
		After all, this touches everyone's skin,
		The Lord gave us, telling us to love each other,
		And we are serving Him with my beloved…

		So why sensual blizzard is going further,
		Just a reason to be reproved?




Sonnet 252


		Oh, how smartly you lure in the net,
		What are you drawing – a fairy mirage:
		Cheat-passion, I am your court page,
		I'm docile, as children are obedient.

		After all, it is you who dictate these words,
		Again driving me into heat and rage,
		And you give the carriage to the porch
		So that I forget with you everything in the universe…

		You torment with thirst soul, sight, hearing! —
		Because of you, I'm like a madman…
		Burn me again in your arms
		So I almost give up the spirit!

		But the body's separated from the flesh,
		And you will die… to be reborn afresh…




Sonnet 253


		Imagination – you have forwardness:
		You are for her, as logs for a fire!
		You awaken languor and reverie
		And claiming the power of voluptuousness.

		You make the eye shameless pilfer,
		Again to hunger and thirst gratification.
		You plunge a poor mind into obsession,
		Where for nothing he risks to disappear!

		Line fluidity – bend, camber
		And nudity: a rag of teasing cloth…
		Imagination – sensuality hands
		A moan and a sob are uttered from my kisser:

		In them, and the beginning of passion and denouement…
		But the forbidden fruit is always the sweetest!




Sonnet 266


		And your body pattern, so glamorous,
		Of fateful temptation comprised…
		I was carried away to the abyss
		By your look that was so undisguised… —

		And then my blood get into a tantrum
		So grateful to lips' gentle mugging
		And you were so mercilessly bared
		I uncovered my soul, so you dared…

		So artful was your hands caressing!
		And bodies clung to each other! —
		You made me insane, just in passing,
		And like a night bird, you flew out…

		And flying for you has no purpose,
		But I rave again loveliness.




Sonnet 267


		I keep on live in some awaiting
		Of sunset, midnight, and the dawn,
		Of the appearance of new song,
		And I'm delirious in waking…

		I feel the grass under my feet,
		And guess I can trample on Lethe,
		And find all answers, solve all matters…
		In some awaiting still I live

		Of luck, discoveries and happiness… —
		What's time – the doctor or a headsman?!
		But anyway I'll argue with it
		As snowstorm in March is defied by swallow,

		Just like the hope defies the grief:
		Just once again, love, set me time to follow!




Sonnet 139


		Life is like puzzle, bright and queer:
		Like carnival with no end!
		Sometimes I used to dance unwearying
		Sometimes was staggering my gate.

		But in the fit of the despair:
		When, probably, the game was lost,
		The life's sacred rite I still adhered
		And pain seemed sweet, and so it was!

		The loving fever – ardent flame
		Was burning me and burns me still:
		How strong was love and suffering!
		So recklessly I felt in love again!

		As a page so humble I serve my Love:
		Ascend its heights so above…




The language of love…





Sonnet 22


		The autumn evening washed off paints being colored
		In a transparent window's mirror
		And we were made our empty masks to zero:
		The soul was naked discovered…

		But if it all is tritely pretty
		What is passion, say
		Are lips' desired mystery essentiality
		What are hands' warm and power, dear anyway

		And this attraction's magic,
		And eyes' Inviting lights,
		First moment of convergence is so fragile?! —
		Hurry, come to me to finite!

		Love will open arms for us:
		Try on the dress of honey thus!




Sonnet 31


		I can't compound these «You» and «you»:
		To say to You just «you» I do not dare again,
		And if I say, that moment I will rue —
		How did I dare!? How could I answer back You then?!

		You are on pedestal for me all time
		I see you as a woman on the Earth upbeat…
		You were hugging me today and that's not crime,
		And you were giving me your feelings heat!

		That's I'm bewitched by You, I guess
		And that was you who did awake my passion…
		And I'm commanded by your power too much passing,
		My tenderness to you owns just my words.

		Whatever my impudent tongue will say:
		I used to call you – «You» – only such way!




Sonnet 32


		Is it reality or it's just dreaming,
		That you are mine for now?
		How couldn't I fall in love with you be beaming?!
		How could I live, was knocking on another door, just how?!

		Affectionateness, languor are passion's madness
		At once they dragged me into swirl:
		I yield your power of love, thus I have no successes,
		As pilgrim, I'm at your gate, so well…

		Be seeking to the holy Mecca, went to you:
		In the desert of feelings I raved for you, the power…
		The gift of love is given just to me as man as due:
		Let drop your shrines this hour —

		Let thirst me quench of love:
		I cannot live without it for now!




Sonnet 34


		Let's listen to each other —
		You whispered quietly to me at night…
		Your words, being in my soul, are gather:




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