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Three shirt verses on April day

Sonnet on a milk


White bad, white silk.

The Sonnet on a milk.

I love my red poppy.

I love it, I hope it.


It comes in light waves,

The love, which he waits for.

The love, which he wants to have,

The love that he canít hide.


Red bed, red silk,

The sonnet on a milk,

The sonnet on a blood.

The love, which Iíve got.


The love, which I found,

The sky, all the down.





Violets are velvet,

Violets are bright,

Or will be, or shall be

Woman, wife or bride.


Violets are velvet,

Violets are warm.

I have got my mother,

I have got my mom.



Deceitful part


When I begin to talk to roses

My prince just goes away, you know.

I donít wait for the change of poses,

He doesnít love them, not at all.


He loves to eat, to work, to love me,

But difference makes us fall apart.

Yes, I love roses, he does not love.

Be, king, my lover, second part.


Deceitful princess now is lonely,

She talks to roses every day.

Those king and prince, together only

Go to their fields to be away.


ďWhy they donít love the story, roses?Ē-

Asks girl and kisses other men.-

ďTo read sonnets, to change the poses

In sex and love, here is my realmĒ.




I am


Iím French girl,

While cooking French entrée and soup.

Iím French girl,

While kissing, while being with You.


Iím Russian,

While bicycle riding in June,

Through mountains and hills,

Summertime, afternoon.


Iím English like England. Iím Scottish like Scotch.

Iím Welsh like a flowers of Wales.

Iím Finnish in Finland. In Deutschland Iím Deutsch.

Iím Irish on Saint Patrickís days.




La Fleur

Au revoir


Felix, bon soir,

Et toi, Irene.

Andre, au revoir,

Au revoire, cíest rien.


Rien de ma vie.

Rien de le jour.

Jíai dit au revoir

A mon amour.



Tu es une fleur,

Oui, ton visage.

Le chant de couer,

Beaute de líage.


Tu es un fleur

Depuis vingt ans.

Tu as líodeur

Jusquía trente-un.

Le mot


Il pleuvee...


Malgre, je níai pas

Le question

Pour cette discoussion

De ma vie privee.










Donít make things better,

Donít keep this letter.


Where do we find it?


Not in the sky place.

Not on snowy time.

Not in a rose fields,

Not in a blue river.


Say, that was fine.

Adoration is a red-red vine.

Itís real.

Like a ďred-red roseĒ,

Burns, I suppose...




Whether itís fine,

Or good,

But I catch the mood.


So, itís strong,

Right or wrong,

High or low,

I donít know.


Maybe ďupĒ,

Maybe ďfallĒ,

There is love

In my soul.


This is the material of illusion,

Soul and eyes, an evolution.


Green river-

Cold shiver.


Soul is hot,

Eyes are not.


But the beauty of your eyes

Made the world another size.


But the beauty of your soul

Made my ďnothingĒ to my ďallĒ.



Beautiful music,

And itís rainy in my street.


Itís high -

To come up blue

Looking at you,

Thatís why

Iím not shy.


Beautiful music,

And itís rainy in my street.

Where do we find the beauty?

What do we really need?



Wonít say ďyesĒ or ďnoĒ.

It will be much moreÖ

More than other measures,

More than crowns and treasures.


Three shirt verses on April day


Even if the autumn falls.

Even if the winter grows.

I will be the morning shine,

I will be the summertime.


Just for You, I love your eyes,

To the end or start of times.



Just a pleasure,

Just a blue moment,

To feel close to you,

To feel boring.

To sing song for you.

To win glory.

To play games to you,

To say ďsorryĒ.



Now the love is a green sea,

Where the boat is his eyes,

And a lee is soul,

And his life is unknown.

For others? Oh no, for me.


I wonder why

I canít live or die,

I canít sleep or lie






A Woman loves it,

She likes a jazz.

He makes his music,

Oh yes, he does.


Heís not romantic,

Sheís not a dream.

Love was the painting:

Her lips and skin.


Love is a painting

In pink and white,

Sheís lucky lady,

Heís lucky guy.

The day


The day of my love

Is a day of a week.

Itís Sunday or Monday,

A kiss or a flick.


The day of my feelings,

But poems canít talk.

My feelings are crystal,

The words are the fog.


Donít leave


The airport and plains

And I canít let you go.

Donít leave me,

Donít leave me,

Donít leave me alone.


Donít help with my baggage,

Donít tell me ďgood luckĒ,

I donít want to Saghi,

I want to be back.


Donít tell me good bye,

And donít leave me alone.

I donít want to die,

Iíll stay here, at home.




Jazz & Harmony,

Sounds out.

You donít catch

What Iím talking about.


Jazz is humour,

Musicís fun,

I donít love you,

What you have done?




Iíll never ask a question,

ďRoses, rose field, attentionĒ.

Iíll never ask you where

Drowning, drawback, my passion.


Love is a sort of story,

Color or light or dark.

Maybe another poet

Will make it good or bad.


My swear


If other words will fall, like rain,

And if will be the other day,


I wonít say ďnoĒ to magic dreams.

I wonít say ďnoĒ to private themes,


Which all the words of truth and loveÖ

I love you, tell me, where you are?






I am looking at the sky

Itís like same-colored eyes.

Iím looking to the wind

And see our stars in height.


The water and the wave

Will hug my naked skin.

I am catching sunny-rain

Of gold September stream.


The whisper of its leaves,

And clouds, gliding fast.

And transparent sunbeams

Grow such as our Love.




My North is green, and black,

And grey.

And white, and blue,

And as I say:

Itís peace and calm.

Itís height and way

To Shambala or Mandalay.




Moveless motion of a Time,

Silence of the land.

We are couple, you are mine,

Both we understand.


When I smile Ė sunlight appears,

When you smile Ė both hemispheres

Seems to be like Paradise.

Look into my eyes!


Mornings burnish golden sand,

World like aquarelle.

Lake is mirror, riverís bend,

Pine-trees amber smell.


When I kiss Ė our hearts are growing.

When you kiss Ė our hearts in glory.

Feel like Paradise.

Turquoise of the skies.


Clouds like necklace, dazzling fan

Made out of a pearl.

Swans are floating to the sun.

Keep me, Iím your girl.


Iím your Queen, your Star, your Dear.

Youíre my breath and atmosphere.

Iím your Paradise

Iím your All, my Nice!


Our beauty is Divine.

Our mind is high.

Yes, we see a brilliant Line

And you ask me why?


Thereís no answer Ė only feeling.

Thereís no word Ė just our willing

Live in Paradise.

Our Love is wise.



Date: 2016-01-03; view: 459

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