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Best Famous Regina Derieva Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Regina Derieva poems. This is a select list of the best famous Regina Derieva poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Regina Derieva poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Regina Derieva poems.

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by Regina Derieva | |

A Poem

 A poem—
is just one more
scrap of paper
that has sailed off the table
in a bottle
with a cry for help.


by Regina Derieva | |

All My Life

 All my life 
I sought 
an angel.
And he appeared in order to say: "I am no angel !"


by Regina Derieva | |

I Dont Feel At Home Where I Am

 I don't feel at home where I am,
or where I spend time; only where,
beyond counting, there's freedom and calm,
that is, waves, that is, space where, when there,
you consist of pure freedom, which, seen,
turns that Gorgon, the crowd, to stone,
to pebbles and sand .
.
.
where life's mean- ing lies buried, that never let one come within cannon shot yet.
From cloud-covered wells untold pour color and light, a fete of cupids and Ledas in gold.
That is, silk and honey and sheen.
That is, boon and quiver and call.
That is, all that lives to be free, needing no words at all.


by Regina Derieva | |

It Was Not Necessary To Study

 It was not necessary to study
the language
of a strange country;
anyway, it would be of no help.
It was not necessary to know where Italy or England is located; travel was obviously out of question.
It was not necessary to live among the wild beasts of Noah's ark, which had just devoured the last dove of peace, along with Noah and his virtuous family.
It was not necessary to strive for some holy land awash in milk and honey, according to rumor.


by Regina Derieva | |

On The Sea-Shore Smell Of Iodine

 On the sea-shore, smell of iodine,
and square as in Sicily, and dancing.
An intellectual that came from the common people, preparing himself to be Rosencrantz.
He decides to serve Claudius and therefore spy on Prince Hamlet from the fountain.
All over the world — the prison.
At the world's end a certain John plays the piano.
Already darkness, and the end is in sight : Ophelia crying in an empty hut.
And Hamlet walks to and fro with white headband, in order to be recognized by the Ghost in the gloom.


by Regina Derieva | |

Theory Of Recruiting

 Sons of bitches
were born
with hearts of stone,
cherishing this stone
all their life.
Children of sons of bitches were born with hearts of grenade, in order to blow to pieces everything, and to leave as a message for their descendants — entrails (still smoking entrails) of sons of bitches.


by Regina Derieva | |

From The Last Island: To Lady Elisabeth Verreet

 Oval mirror of the sea,
age-warped isle waved and cloudy,
each angle crystalline and salty.
my lens into reality.
Point of space just visible, focus of beams ineffable, swith of signals transmissible, receiver of voices inaudible At time's edge.
No need have I to shout in fear about this death of mine.
And any creature here is glad to offer you a glass of wine.


by Regina Derieva | |

Beyond Siberia Again Siberia

 Beyond Siberia again Siberia,
beyond impenetrable forest again forest.
And beyond it waste ground, where a blizzard of snow breaks loose.
The blizzard has handcuffs, and the snow- storm has a knife which kills at once.
.
.
.
I will die, pay a debt for others who live somewhere, out of spite, out of fear and terror, out of pain, out of a nameless grave.
.
.
.
Beyond the wall another wall, on the wall stopped dead one sentinel.


by Regina Derieva | |

To Fr. Armando

 Everyone, after all, was killed:
he who was crucified,
he who died without skin,
he who died without a head,
he who was drowned,
he who was thrown down
from the wall of the Temple,
which shortly after that
ceased to exist.
Everyone, after all, was tormented; he who was put at the mercy of lions and Neros, he who was roasted on the bonfire, he whose eyes were gouged out.
Everything was justified on the excuse that no one can live eternally and that it is impossible to avoid death.
Through the narrow gates of paradise passed so many martyrs that the gates in the end had to be widened.
Kudos to the executioners!