Short Volga Poems

I love pretty things
From the nile to the volga
My passion is you
The same dirty faces
Warm my sit in your heart...

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KONAKOVO


Konakovo was an ugly place


Where grass should be there was none
Rough-hewn icy paths   to slip on
Concrete blocks of massive size 
To the clouds all tried to rise
Singularly   lacking grace
A  soviet  town  with  wintry  face


We strolled in the  cold each day 
But she was by my side
We laughed at the pigeons grey
And she was by my side 
We walked near the Volga bay
And loved  the water so wide


Konakovo was a lovely place...

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Night is hanging a kerchief with stars
above the sleeping Earth
above her sadnesses, passions,
above her restless head.
And only a lunar path
tells dreams to dark Volga.
A Romany fire burns
on the bank of this great Russian river. 
Romany lass dances,
bracelets ring on wrists 
skirts and curls of hair
fly up in dance. 
She is the most beautiful lass in the world now!
That is why the wind is laughing
and night plays with tambourine
of moon and stars....

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SHORT    MEETING     WITH   ETERNITY

Gentle, murmuring, lapping,
Coolly caressing my feet,
The flow of the Volga
From her misty upper reaches
Down into the dry sand
Below my feet,  loosening
The tight-packed mass,
Dissolving the firm lines
Of  footprints,  washing marks
From bygone meetings clear,
Rolls  past  my  legs,
Gliding down to lower reaches
Without effort,   instinct-guided
Searching the best way
To her goal in the south
And  in the warm red sky...

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