Страна : Россия
Пишу стихи с юности. В моих стихах я ищу ответы на духовные вопросы. Я разговариваю с Богом, молюсь Ему. Главным персонажем часто выступает Душа. Это драгоценная, уникальная личность, застрявшая между небом и землей. Ей не всегда уютно на Земле и в то же время она жаждет вечности на Небесах. В моих стихах я также воспеваю красоту русского севера, где я живу.
Country : Russia
I write poems from my youth. In my poems I look for many answers to spiritual questions, I speak to God, pray to Him. The main character is the Soul. She is a unique, precious person, stucked between heaven and earth. She don’t feel always comfortably on the Earth and she’s thirsty of eternity in the Heaven. In my poems I tell about the beauty of Russian North, where I live.
Отрывок из сборника стихотворений “The light of hope”
Don’t be sad that the autumn is at threshold,
The winter is not like the gloomy crypts.
Summer’s gone, forget alarms you should,
Remember the Vertep where’d born Christ.
He was born to save us and moralise.
Incessantly, in suffering He was dying.
Beyond the mists flaunt Gate of Paradise,
The ashberry tell us His love’s undying.
The blood of wars, tears washed the Russia,
Wheat fields are sunny worried under sky.
We are Her Christian daughters and sons,
As if her birches, poplars we forever fly.
Ah, what dawns are burning in the city!
All is covered with gold this night,
Clouds rise picturesquely high pretty,
The sky is painted in oil bright.
The morning coolness see off the night,
A haze of whitish creeps below.
It looks as a marine lagoon like,
Branches of birch smell Datura mellow.
White night goes on a quietly semicircle,
Surrounding tundra and the Arctic ocean.
The Nightingale sings in a many voices,
Waking eyelashes breath gentle emotion…
There is a fierce struggle for the soul
Between my Аngel and Satan.
No, I’m not dead, it is my Bowl,
I’m floating in the ocean immortan.
The other day I bitterly repented of my sins
Before God, weeping softly, penitently.
I knew he would forgive and wouldn’t pain,
I prayed by candle in the temple silently.
I seem to have so much good in my life
Always created, saving all my soul.
Today I’ve sinned, brining in her а strife ,
And this is devil dirty games like a coal.
My soul is tired, God, how much strength
Does she need else to win the fight?
I want to be forever with Your truth ,
The spiritual world is dear to me, is bright.
Where can I go from the fate of curse,
To what wasteland or heavenly distance?
No one will say, with sadness and my worse
I’ll go to the Crucifix to have new chance.
So many winters and nice springs flew ,
I live like into sleep, not in reality,
And many birds sang us about love true,
I’ll meet my mother there cordiality.
I know that the long sleep of life spill in
The sparkling dew, down on the green grass.
I hope my soul God would save with in,
To wake up in the Paradise like clean glass.
There will be consolation, love and youth
And laughing children in a blooming valley.
Unending ever life joy, saint ever truth,
And just a shadow of sins badly smelling.
Among the blessed faces full of lightness
I’ll see the native long awaited eyes,
And in the gentle rays of dawn brightness
I’ll ever warm by her divine love unsized…
My soul cries sometimes in the night
Because of heaviness, imperfect world,
And to God she prays, even might
To Blood of Christ in the Cup gold.
Tears flow because of weakness soul,
Before unseen packs of wolves,
Because I weary do good unknown,
My chain of full sin thoughting moves.
And breaking down the enemy attack,
She becomes so much furious and wild.
The frost grows stronger, it’s snowing back,
And so much ashes flies in soul mild…
The hopes and dreams are burning up
And she goes on the blackening hell.
And moans, hiding in the shadow dark,
To liquidate the sludge of badly smell.
She needs the only peace of Christ,
Where in the world can she kneel head?
Oh, God, bless with Your thin whisper
To do the true I’ll saintly be glad!
Fireworks were hearing in the dark night ,
The wine were sparkling in the glasses,
And my life became shorter and so tired ,
I else live in the world, failings by pass!
I remember you loved the New Year,
How we decorated the Christmas tree,
And we were not so rich then there,
We saw off the Old Year, joyed so free.
We painted eggs on happy Easter,
We baked cakes, covered with icing,
We cooked the rabbit for our feasters,
We put the tablecloth, sun was rising…
Mom, I remember all, not wait for you,
It seems much years are on the threshold.
That day in the last way we saw off you-
Today I get rid of pain, calmness behold .
But why I see in these fireworks a nostalgia?
The old time again hurt me much and drawl.
Today I feel a joy of holiday life, euphoria,
It is because forgotten memories now bawl..
The long earth fleeting life had flown,
A moment, sickness and a death.
They heard the prayers from their own,
The coloured circle became a large heath.
The shining shells of souls lost bodies
Fly around invisible and much confused,
They want to dress white shirts and, stupid,
Sigh bitterly and much, so much excused.
They were repeatedly and many times told
About God, there on the solid Earth.
They didn’t believe, sinned, by life hold,
Now don’t feel peace, but soul death.
There is so strange, all creepily unknown,
And roar, the scary faces are grinning…
There isn’t will, a weightless there’s shown…
Can they find there a forgiving being?
And like the last and saintly mercy here,
God permits them to knock into night dreams,
To be forgiven for the heavy sins there,
They get the merciful prayers, like streams.
Who hear the souls crying, feel painful tears,
They call in hearts and minds to mighty God,
There rise the great fire pillars of love dearly
To those who there is on the burning bad road…
That hour will come when my soul,
For ever will rise from the mortal body.
And I’ll, with no regret, get a breathe hold…
I’ll leave the world, hearing a monody.
Then, may be, with much sadness,
You will remember me often in nights.
I’ll pray to angel, that with blessness,
Will give you faith, by your death, might. .
I’ll leave by soul this world forever,
All we had in that life, we named as love.
My very loved, my dear man, and ever
Our great love will be as a pure white dove.
My soul is poor and so suffering, icily,
She always kept love in the earth life,
Sometimes we had no money in our family,
I was attracted by Lord, walked on straight.
All that was between us both here,
You know, it’s hard to name “pure love”,
How will be terribly to know it late there,
I will fly like a widow tear, by you, above…
I’ll meet there gladness and happiness,
No little tear I’ll drop from that holy sky,
I’ll get peace for my sufferings, easiness,
Here I spill tears during my short life, tired…
The Nothern extreme earth
Is covered with bright carpets.
The autumn decorates with gifts
All and all, reflecting gold facets.
The purple velvet fabrics
Set off the larch branches richly,
With the vanilla moss early
Tundra meets the dawn staunchly.
The sky stands with a dignity
In that lake like in the mirror clear,
No silk green grass in this reality,
But there’s fluffy moss islands here.
The birches swing in this wind,
Showering a precious gold of leaves.
A gravity of air with echoes tired
Expects the winter yoke, is believed…
The birches are so pretty in the dawn,
With their leaves rustle in silence .
The river stretches down undrawn,
The scared ducks are flying thence.
The white-red glades blush so intense,
The larches stay in a fabulous dream,
The mists hang like a whitish haze,
Covering mushrooms, never deemed.
Air is so fresh, stands crystalline,
A smell of wood and cut green grass.
A note of autumn plays in shine,
An echo in the grove… All passed.
The air breathes with so much сool ,
The last storm rattles in the night,
The warm went as a ballad tool,
A sad-tear’s dropping rainy’n flight.
The forest smells as green freshness,
Somewhere a yellowness flashes.
But all arround die, crumbling ash-
The bird sings, the summer smashes.
The colour of grays spills in the sky,
A brush draws the portrait of autumn,
A view of moon hangs in the night,
Swimming to a large pale-dark bottom…
A soul lives mysterious and strange,
She’s feeling worse, tiring by life.
She’s gentle and so multi-faceted,
Looks to the icon, afraid of strife…
The world is too much small to her-
She would fly up if she will could,
She’s not among the mundane humans,
Evil and murk, she eschew should.
Among her loved she is outlander ,
Disgusted to all with her God, truth,
She’s like a foreigner’n her poor land,
But before God she’s innocent, has proof .
Something remains for her to do-
To love and roam here in the earth,
And she prays with a heavy burden,
Bears her cross before God, to death.
I’ve came to you to tell, that with the bird’s trill,
The spring is distributing under fluffy cloud,
There a wave with ripple in sun’s shining,
A river Sede-Yaha is flashily flowing aloud.
I’ll walk along the sandy whitening beaches,
So squinting softly in the bliss of dazzling sun,
I’ll weave a posy from ivan-tea, joy and daisies,
I’ll ask reflection: Am I the nicest? Am I that one?
The tundra’s singing, with greens’s decorated…
I’ve stopped for a moment from my walking,
The air’s full of sounds, chirping’s hearing,..
My North, a painterly picture you are drawing!