What do you see...

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  What do you see when you close your eyes?
I watch you sleep, sometimes worried
that you will be disturbed by the dawn volley,
thermonuclear flaring over the dust of the streets.
I would like in your worst nightmare
to be a hero on the barricades
without a cloak and a dagger, but all the stronger
drinking Americano under the fire
waiting for that very last explosion
from which the walls lie back,
to open these rubble in time,
starting to mean something to you.

   What do you see when you close your eyes?
I watch you sleep, sometimes jealous
that bestial, hunting your passion
gets to the victim for a kiss.
I'd like in your hottest dream
to be your rebellious victim
from shameless attacks and caresses to blush,
succumb to you turning into a vent
spewing streams of hot lavas
taking the stream of your volcano
so that once you received your body,
unity is to wrap oneself around.

   What do you see when you close your eyes?
I watch you sleeping and always hope
that basalt rocks obey you
because our city is so dry and cramped.
I would like in your brightest dream
look at the sea from a tall rock
because the longer you look blue
will become the irises of those who look at the sea,
because it picks up so
that it’s possible to cash in alone today,
how clothes are removed vanity.
Without clothes, we were always freer
like the very painful and first time
when a gentle wave licked our bodies
endless sea. In your eyes,
when you wake up, it will be reflected. Tomorrow.

*
Chto ty vidish' kogda zakryvayesh' glaza?
YA smotryu kak ty spish', inogda volnuyas',
chto tebya potrevozhit rassvetnyy zalp,
termoyaderno vspykhnuv nad pyl'yu ulits.
YA khotel by v tvoyom samom strashnom sne
okazat'sya geroyem na barrikadakh,
bez plashcha i kinzhala, no vsekh sil'ney,
pod ognom popivaya amerikano,
podzhidaya tot samyy posledniy vzryv,
ot kotorogo steny lozhatsya navznich',
chtoby vovremya eti zavaly vskryt',
dlya tebya nachinaya khot' chto-to znachit'.

Chto ty vidish' kogda zakryvayesh' glaza?
YA smotryu kak ty spish', inogda revnuya,
chto zverinyy, okhotnichiy tvoy azart
podbirayetsya k zhertve dlya potseluya.
YA khotel by v tvoyom samom zharkom sne
okazat'sya tvoyey nepokornoy zhertvoy,
ot besstydstva ataki i lask krasnet',
poddavat'sya tebe, prevrashchayas' v zherlo,
izvergaya potoki goryachikh lav,
prinimaya potok tvoyego vulkana,
chtob yedinozhdy telom tebya prinyav,
yedineniye eto obvit' rukami.

Chto ty vidish' kogda zakryvayesh' glaza?
YA smotryu kak ty spish' i vsegda nadeyus',
chto tebe pokoryayetsya skal bazal't,
potomu chto nash gorod tak sukh i tesen.
YA khotel by v tvoyom samom svetlom sne
s vysochennoy skaly posmotret' na more,
potomu chto, chem dol'she smotret', siney
stanut raduzhki tekh, kto na more smotrit,
potomu chto ono zabirayet tak,
chto nazhit'sya vozmozhno odnim segodnya,
kak odezhda snimayetsya suyeta.
Bez odezhdy nam bylo vsegda svobodney,
kak v tot samyy shchemyashchiy i pervyy raz,
kogda nezhnoy volnoy nam tela lizalo
beskonechnoye more. V tvoikh glazakh,
kak prosnesh'sya, ono otrazitsya. Zavtra.


5 августа 2012 в 02:14


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