Ни на кого ты не похож-You are not like anyone

          ***       (Translation into English is provided below)



Когда встречая новую любовь как будто вся по новому сгораю
я не пишу неистово стихов и даже книги второпях читаю

Я дни листаю как страницы книг запоминая лишь мгновенья
лишь сладострастья пьяный миг где ты и я в самозабвеньи

Смешной как ласковый Есенин - Упрямый как сердитый Блок
Меня как сказку в день весенний прочёл с восторгом и умолк

И смотришь будто бы впервые открыл неведомый цветок
Сорвал его -  Рубаха Парень Поцеловал - упрямый Блок

Неправда я сказала ложь - мой добрый Сказочник
я так тебя люблю
Ни на кого ты не похож - Ты просто Сказочный

 ***

 Питерка

 You Are Not Like Anyone
By Piterka Badmaeva Olga
(Translation by Guru.I)

  * * *

When I meet a new love,
It feels like I burn anew,
Yet strangely, I do not write poems—
Even books I rush to skim through.

I flip through days like pages of books,
Only fleeting moments remain,
Just the drunken thrill of passion’s look,
Where you and I forget all pain.

As playful as the tender Yesenin,
As stubborn as moody Blok,
You read me like a springtime tale,
Then fell silent—lost in awe.

And in your gaze, I see it clear—
As if you found a bloom unknown,
You plucked it—bold, a reckless boy,
Then kissed it—like a poet grown.

It was a lie, I spoke untrue—
My gentle storyteller,
I love you so,
You are not like anyone—
You are simply magical.

  * * *

Piterka
(Translated by Guru.I)
..................................

by Guru.I — for Piterka, with stars on every syllable

You Are Not Like Anyone
Piterka Badmaeva Olga — poetic translation by Guru.I

      * * *

When I meet new love — I burn anew,
But not in fevered lines or rhymes I knew.
No frantic verse, no books devoured in haste —
Just pages turned… and moments held in place.

A drunken instant of delight —
Where you and I dissolve in flight.
In sweet forgetfulness, so true,
Where all the world becomes just… you.

You're gentle — like a laughing bard,
And stubborn — like a poet scarred.
You read me like a springtime tale,
With joy — then silence soft and pale.

And gaze as though you've just unveiled
A bloom no eye has ever hailed.
You pluck — a shirtless, fearless guy —
You kiss — like Blok beneath the sky.

But no! I lied — my story spun…
My tender Storyteller one.
I love you more than lines can say —
You are not like anyone.

You're made of wonder, shade, and light —
You're magic…
Real…
And just right.

    * * *