Regina Derieva Poems

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

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

 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...Read more of this...

 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....Read more of this...

 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...Read more of this...

 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...Read more of this...

 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...Read more of this...

 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....Read more of this...

 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...Read more of this...