My idea for my sonnet poem

D - electricity
With  her the world can shine
In her light I write this lines
And with her power I get mine



26



When night comes on the desert sky
To soft the flame of sun in dew,
And spills life on the boring dry
And wan, like me, I think it's You...
When morning feeds the cooled Earth
With golden rays of warmth and shine
And to new buds gives fragrant birth,
As to bleak me, I feel Your line.
When midday sun sends off its beam
In warm and gracious manner, I
Think that You are this lovely gleam
Of splashing water by the sky...
  And then I see that in this world
  I love You most beyond the Lord.




It's half past one: and again
You aimlessly fall in the feed.
Your mind is more dark than night's reign,
No frailty it can forbid.
'Tis day was so complex - as you.
Reality vexes. 'Tis weather.
'Tis autumn breathes with its cold blue
And makes you breathe heavy together.

And that hoped salve is her eyes,
Her breath, is her fondness, is she,
She is your soul's fine paradise;
Without her unrest looms, wintry...




Beneath the night is condor born,
Which dresses off the hunan's heart.
At night all shyness is forsworn,
And lost thoughts do retrieve their part.

In reign of night, day's rules work not :
Soul's secrets shake of heavy locks,
And speech and silence heat so hot,
And words of kindness boredom knocks.







Beneath the stars is condor born,
Which dresses off the hunan's heart.
At night all shyness is forsworn,
And lost thoughts do retrieve their part.

In reign of night, day's laws work not :
Soul's secrets shake of heavy locks,
And speech and silence heat so hot,
And words of kindness boredom knocks.

Beneath the stars men get so feeling,
Too tender, they get vulnerable,
And in night's shade their talks are thrilling,
To rill with great ease they are able.

But with the day, the stir comes too -
All matters - home, work, study, friends,
But in the night's reviving dew,
A man his soul to himself lends.



Beneath the stars is candor born,
In dark undressing human's heart.
At night all shyness is forsworn,
And lost thoughts do retrieve their part.

In reign of night, day's laws work not :
Soul's secrets shake off heavy locks,
And speech and silence make nights hot,
A word of kindness day's course knocks.

Beneath the stars men get so feeling,
So vulnerable, soft too much,
And in night's shade their talks are thrilling,
They rill with ease and nak'd hearts touch.

But with the day, the stir comes too
And whirls in household, work and friends,
Till in the night's reviving dew
A man his soul to himself lends.




Would I melt for a while,
Myself find.
Whould I shake off the pile,
Free my mind.
Should I fall in love then,
Forget all?
Or just hide from all men,
Save my soul?
O, enough! Read fortune!
Fall in sleep!
And new days I will reap,
And new moon.




A stilted you with live, warm thou
She gently changed in a slip,
And all the dreams and hopes did sow
Which lover's souls with mirth do reap.
By love's might whistfully did bow,
I gaz'd her, weak this gaze to bar,
And said : " How likeable you are!"
And thought : "How much I love thou"



The lifeless you with heartful thou
She gently changed in a slip,
And all the dreams and hopes did sow
Which lover's souls with mirth do reap.
By love's might whistfully I bow,
I gaze her, weak this gaze to bar,
And say : " How likeable you are!"
And think in depth : "How much I love thou".









O dear to whom it may concern!
Could my translations somehow earn
Your kind consideration, please?
Yeah, pardon this queer form of speech :
Though lines I penned a plenty reach
It's first time I'm submitting these.
I write (and get inspired) ashore
The Mare Nostrum I adore,
And here I somehow did translate
Four poems by two Russian wits :
Three by Dali Merzho, one great
By Pushkin (Yes, Dali permits
My scanty wit to tell her verse
In English... All I did rehearse.
Wait! also I esteem your time
And care for poet's troubled minds:
Revising our endless rhyme
Your toil the truth and beauty finds,
And with new life spent souls can fill.
With love, Yours Frizen Mikhail.





Jing Jing has passed.
My feelings not.
My feelings last,
My heart will dote.

Jing Jing's so far!
My feelings whet,
What I can't bar -
They burned my head.

Jing Jing has changed!
But never I.
Those left estranged
But pray, or cry.

Will I change? NO.
Because I can't
Because of woe
My love's might bend.

...And also tears
Are sometimes sweet -
Remember, years
Ago, we meet :

We sit so close,
I speak to you,
My heart all glows...
Now leaves hot dew,

O what was that?
A dream?.. Though lot
Of dreams I had
With you - it's not.

The words you breathed
Got iron-shod,
And gently sheathed,
Fell deep in thought.

The words you wrote
Are now engraved;
Not like a note,
But like gold saved.

That meet more cost
Than earthly gold,
A lot words lost -
It's still not called.

O, dreams are less
Than what that was -
They evanesce
Without a loss.

I saved the soap
From that hotel,
Joy, strength, and hope
Sheds from it's smell.

And when the water
From Agros,
Or juicy daughter
Of it's rose

Do salve my throat
And whole enliven,
I feel like God
Shows some of Heaven,

Because they hold,
Your touch, your smell,
In them your mold
And soul do dwell,

Since on that land
We met... we talked!
No dream can lend
That dream I walked...

Since your feet met
The green Agros,
And it's rills fed,
Which prime each rose.

This doting heart
On you eyes sticks,
And bursts in art
Seeing that small pics.

How long a line,
Flies far to you!
How wet a whine
Spoils it with dew!

Though I'm a boy -
Forbidden is
Her to annoy
Who did not miss

The love I spend.

So lie unsent.












Jing Jing has passed.
My feelings not.
My feelings last,
My heart will dote.

Jing Jing's so far!
My feelings whet,
What I can't bar -
They burned my head.

Jing Jing has changed!
But never I.
Those left estranged
But pray, or cry.

Will I change? NO.
Because I can't
Because of woe
My love's might bend.

...And also tears
Are sometimes sweet -
Remember, years
Ago, we meet :

We sit so close,
I speak to you,
My heart all glows...
Now leaves hot dew,

O what was that?
A dream?.. Though lot
Of dreams I had
With you - it's not.

The words you breathed
Got iron-shod,
And gently sheathed,
Fell deep in thought.

The words you wrote
Are now engraved;
Not like a note,
But like gold saved.

That meet more cost
Than earthly gold,
A lot words lost -
It's still not called.

O, dreams are less
Than what that was -
They evanesce
Without a loss.

I saved the soap
From that hotel,
Joy, strength, and hope
Sheds from it's smell.

And when the water
From Agros,
Or juicy daughter
Of it's rose

Do salve my throat
And whole enliven,
I feel like God
Shows some of Heaven,

Because they hold,
Your touch, your smell,
In them your mold
And soul do dwell,

Since on that land
We met... we talked!
No dream can lend
That dream I walked...

Since your feet met
The green Agros,
And it's rills fed,
Which prime each rose.

This doting heart
On you eyes sticks,
And bursts in art
Seeing that small pics.

How long a line,
Flies far to you!
How wet a whine
Stains it with dew!

Though I'm a boy -
Forbidden is
Her to annoy
Who did not miss

The love I spend.

So lie unsent.


Though I well know,
My love will grow,
My love will burn
My love won't turn.
 


Still unsent lie
Because this love
Will make me cry
But never move

My pen to bother
My Jing Jing.
Thought not her father
Or her king

And far not man
I am to call
Her mine...Oh! Then
This little soul

Must
Now
Just
Bow

To love, to love
And nothing say,
Nor pain remove.
I must obey!

You'll love her, boy,
Fo your love's man's -
It allways stands,
Ne'er will annoy.






























NOTES ON THE WAY THROUGH IRELAND

When hand of God
Have wrought this land,
It touched the nought
And made it manned

(When God's high hand
Did touch the nought
And forged this land,
And its men wrought)


With so much love
And so much wit,
What eyes now prove
When seeing it :

Fresh grass - this rug
Did dress the soil,
Here our men snug
And Irish toil.

Coy flowers here,
Grown by harsh wind,
Don't ask for cheer,
Wear modest hint,
 
Don't take your time,
Stay meekly lone;
So in my rhyme
True fame they own.

O, Ireland's mists!
Your silky breath
Lays quiet and twists
And flows like Lethe.

This stream's so cool!
Those hands I thank
That gave this wool.
Their heart's not dank.

        ...

Though now I think
Each Irish heart
Out iced may blink,
Yet glows when bared.

        ...

O, ancient roads!
You, paved with loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?
        ...

These Irish floods
Are strenuous, quiet,
And this alludes
The Irish might;

This manly stones
Stand calm and still,
Like Irish bones
And Irish will;

The Irish air
Is fresh, not stale,
In it young heir
Themselves find male.

So generous
Is this wide blue,
Soon it will douse
All in it's hue -

It's not too soft,
Like this great race,
Though on it's loft
It's never base.

Because behind
The gloomy clouds
There's a clear mind,
Latent from crowds.
        ...

O! now it rains.
Sky feeds the Earth.
Not Greeks, nor Danes,
Nor sons of North

Can feel this special
Irish rain;
It's drops, celestial,
My rhymes stain.
        ...
O, ancient roads!
You, paved with loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?
        ...

This sea that washes
It, filling dishes,
In moments crashes
The ships he wishes

Is willful, calm
As those who build
This knightly realm,
Like sea wide-spilled.

These two free states
For thousands years
Keep their gates
Closed but to fears;

Nursed by the sea
This land's brave folk
Feels very free
The waves to walk.

        ...

O, ancient woods!
Still you stand tight,
Shield young brisk floods
And teach them might!

By progress' haste
Your front not falls,
Like them not waste
True Irish souls.

Greed's deadly ax
Touches not your stem,
Thus never slacks
The folk of them.

        ...

O! living sound
Of Irish air -
In you they found,
For pupils their

The will and freedom,
Weaved in one -
In Ireland needs 'em
Every son.

Your sounds have housed
The Irish thought;
My soul they roused
To thank our God.

The Irish sky,
The sun, floods, grass -
They made me cry -
Now I confess.

        ...

O, ancient roads!
You, paved with loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?

        ...

These mighty walls
Sank not in past;
In Irish souls
They're built to last,

These ancient forts
In them live now,
For Irish lords
To time won't bow.

The Irish men
Still hold their might,
They were great then,
Now still - inside.

There's something saint
In them, laid deep,
So they won't faint
In time's sweep.

I do believe
That they will find
The true relief,
For they... are kind...

        ...

These lines are short,
Like Irish speech,
With little word
Plain truth they reach,
And, like their swords,
Precision teach.




===================================================
===================================================
===================================================

Notes on the way through Ireland
NEW STANZAS (3)
When God's high hand
Did touch the nought
It forged this land,
And its men wrought

With so much love
And so much wit,
What eyes now prove
When seeing it:

Fresh grass - this rug
Did dress the soil,
Here our men snug
And Irish toil.

Coy flowers here,
By harsh wind grown,
Don't ask for cheer
And bloom unknown,

Don't take your time,
Stay meekly lone;
So in my rhyme
True fame they own.

O, Ireland's mists!
Your silky breath
Lays quiet and twists
And streams like Lethe.

This stream's so cool!
Those hands I thank
That gave this wool.
Their heart's not dank.

        ...

Though now I think
Each Irish heart
Out iced may blink,
Yet glows when bared.

        ...

O, ancient roads!
You, paved with loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?

        ...

These Irish floods
Are strenuous, quiet,
And this alludes
To Irish might;

This manly stones
Stand calm and still,
Like Irish bones
And Irish will;

The Irish air
Is fresh, not stale,
In it young heir
Themselves find male.

So generous
Is this wide blue,
Soon it will douse
All in its hue -

It's not too soft,
Like this great race,
Though on its loft
It's never base.

Because behind
The gloomy clouds
There's a clear mind,
Concealed from crowds.

        ...

O! now it rains.
Sky feeds the Earth.
Not Greeks, nor Danes,
Nor sons of North

Can feel this special
Irish rain;
It's drops, celestial,
My rhymes stain.

        ...


O, Irish field!
How far it spreads!
Your sons revealed
Their golden heads.

You, crops, will feed
Fresh Irish heir,
Their mouths will meet
The sun, rain, air

That you now breathe,
Lock in your flesh:
Soon will their teeth
Unlock it fresh.

        ...

O, ancient roads!
You, paved with loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?

        ...

This sea that washes
It, filling dishes,
In moments crashes
The ships he wishes

Is willful, calm
As those who build
This knightly realm,
Like sea wide-spilled.

These two free states
For thousands years
Keep their gates
Closed but to fears;

Nursed by the sea
This land's brave folk
Feels very free
The waves to walk.
        …
 
O, ancient woods!
Still you stand tight,
Shield young brisk floods
And teach them might!

By progress' haste
Your front not falls,
Like them not waste
True Irish souls.

Greed's deadly ax
Touches not your stem,
Thus never slacks
The folk by them.

        ...
 
O! living sound
Of Irish air -
In you they found,
For pupils their

The will and freedom,
Weaved in one -
In Ireland needs 'em
Every son.

Your sounds have housed
The Irish thought;
My soul they roused
To thank our God.

The Irish sky,
The sun, floods, grass -
They made me cry -
Now I confess.

        …

O, ancient roads!
You, paved with loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?
        ...

These mighty walls
Sank not in past;
In Irish souls
They're built to last,

These ancient forts
In them live now,
For Irish lords
To time won't bow.

The Irish men
Still hold their might,
They were great then,
Now still - inside.

There's something saint
In them, laid deep,
So they won't faint
In time's sweep.

I do believe
That they will find
The true relief,
For they... are kind...

        ...

These lines are short,
Like Irish speech,
With little word
Plain truth they reach,
And, like their swords,
Precision teach.

And though they can't
Reflect this sea,
This breezy land,
This sky I see,
This rough, kind hand
Hang'd out to me -

Hang'd out to say
Farewell to me -
A quirky stray.
Yet amity
In it does lay
Which poetry
Nor paint nor prose
Just cannot house.






































FINAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!











Notes on the way through Ireland

When God's high hand
Did touch the nought
It forged this land,
And its men wrought

With so much love
And so much wit,
What eyes now prove
When seeing it:

Fresh grass - this rug
Did dress the soil,
Here our men snug
And Irish toil.

Coy flowers here,
By harsh wind grown,
Don't ask for cheer
And bloom unknown,

Don't take your time,
Stay meekly lone;
So in my rhyme
True fame they own.
O, Ireland's mists!
Your silky breath
Lays quiet and twists
And streams like Lethe.

This stream's so cool!
Those hands I thank
That gave this wool.
Their heart's not dank.

        ...

Though now I think
Each Irish heart
Out iced may blink,
Yet glows when bar’d.

        ...

O, ancient roads!
You, paved by loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?

        ...

These Irish floods
Are strenuous, quiet,
And this alludes
To Irish might;

This manly stones
Stand calm and still,
Like Irish bones
And Irish will;

The Irish air
Is fresh, not stale,
In it young heir
Themselves find male.

So generous
Is this wide blue,
Soon it will douse
All in its hue -

It's not too soft,
Like this strong race,
Though on its loft
It's never base.

Because behind
The gloomy clouds
There's a clear mind,
Concealed from crowds.

        ...

O! now it rains.
Sky feeds the Earth.
Not Greeks, nor Danes,
Nor sons of North

Can feel this special
Irish rain;
It's drops, celestial,
My rhymes stain.

 ...


O, Irish field!
How far it spreads!
Your sons revealed
Their golden heads.

You, crops, will feed
Fresh Irish heir,
Their mouths will meet
The sun, rain, air

That you now breathe,
Lock in your flesh:
Soon will their teeth
Unlock it fresh.

        ...

O, ancient roads!
You, paved by loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hard-working hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?

        ...

This sea that washes
It, filling dishes,
In moments crashes
The ships he wishes

Is willful, calm
As those who build
This knightly realm,
Like sea wide-spilled.

These two free states
For thousands years
Keep their gates
Closed but to fears -

Nursed by the sea,
This land's brave folk
Feels very free
The waves to walk.
        …
 
O, ancient woods!
Still you stand tight,
Shield young brisk floods
And teach them might!

By progress' haste
Your front not falls,
So them not waste
True Irish souls.

Greed's deadly ax
Touches not your stem,
Thus never slacks
The folk by them.

        ...
 
O! flowing sound
Of Irish air -
In you they found,
For pupils their

The will and freedom,
Weaved in one -
In Ireland needs 'em
Every son.

This song’s flow housed
The Irish thought;
My soul they roused
To thank our God,

They housed your sky,
The sun, floods, grass -
They made me cry -
Now I confess.

        …

O, ancient roads!
You, paved by loads!
How many men
You served since when
Hardworking hands
Did cleave their lands
With this smooth way
That lies to-day?

        ...

These mighty walls
Sank not in past;
In Irish souls
They're built to last,

These ancient forts
In them live now,
For Irish lords
To time won't bow.

The Irish men
Still hold their might,
They were great then,
Now still - inside.

There's something saint
In them, laid deep,
So they won't faint
In time's sweep.

I do believe
That they will find
The true relief,
For they’re... so kind...

        ...

These lines are short,
Like Irish speech,
With little word
Plain truth they reach,
And, like their swords,
Precision teach.

And though they can't
Reflect this sea,
This breezy land,
This sky I see,
This rough, kind hand
Hang'd out to me -

Hang'd out to say
Farewell to me -
A quirky stray.
Yet amity
In it does lay
Which poetry
Nor paint nor prose
Just cannot house.







Hello, Dear Mr. Green! Oh no -
My feet did never Ireland touch,
Nor eyes have seen in real, but though-
My soul this land loves very much,
And as we know, this great heart's love
Gives more than knowledge ever lends,
So let my quirky poem prove
That my heart knows that grassy lands.
...O! now I see how cocky is
My strange submission, though still oft
Works well some loving souls' odd piece,
So, please, push not my bold wish off.
(And still I thank you for the challenge -
I can't imagine how you manage
To do this noble work.
                Regards,
Yours Frizen, Yours Mikhail, and his arts. :)



They housed your sky,
The sun, floods, grass –
Now I confess -
They made me cry...














Hello, Dear Mr. Green! Oh no -
My feet did never Ireland touch,
Nor eyes have seen in real, but though-
My soul this land loves very much,
And as we know, this heart's great love
Gives more than knowledge ever lends,
So let my quirky poem prove
That my heart knows that grassy lands.
...O! now I see how cocky is
My strange submission, though still oft
Well works some loving souls' odd piece
That flows right from the heart of soft
Which with depicting words abound
For someone that they know about
A glimpse and yet such hearts pens burn...
So, please, my bold wish do not spurn.
(And still I thank you for the challenge -
I can't imagine how you manage
To do this noble work.
Regards,
Yours Frizen, Yours Mikhail, and his arts. :)





















Hello! Today's your day of birth,
But nothing self-made I can give;
So I do wish that as you live
(I hope long years) on this fab Earth,
 Your lovely, lively, glaring eyes
Will always see this paradise

That in our eyes gets often lost
Because today an anxious thought
Annoys the head, next day - a lot
Of stew and bustle of small cost
Draw our attention from the Earth -
So we don't see morn's flower's mirth

On cooled, fresh-breathing, dewy meads,
Already doused by sun's soft rays,
The first caress of flaming days,
That gives to grass it's morning feeds
And bathes in warmth after night's cold,
And leaves in grain it's drops of gold.

But we forget to breathe this air,
Yet it's so light, so sweet, so soft!
And flowers, basking here, do waft
The scent that draws the bees, who share
Th' enchantment of the morning life
With us in honey from their hive:

Oh yes! The honey takes morn's shine
That gently lies on grassy ground,
Green leaves and air, which makes it browned,
And has the sweet of all the fine
  And gracious flowers that bees reap -
  Each adds a bit to its recipe !

I never tried, so you should try
To eat this honey on this grass!..
Until the rain will break pond's glass
With crystal drops of shedding sky,
Then you can feel the ether's blue
And smell the freshness in it's hue,

And feel the thrill of thirsty green
When thunder shakes the sky. Ba-Boom...
Weird silence and old jasmine's bloom
Do greet the coming rain. But men
At times just shut the house and take
The phone, not hearing heaven shake,

Not feeling flurried flower's cries,
Nor seeing first small crystals spilled
Upon the waiting, silent, thrilled
World. Then begins. Affluent skies
Erupt the heavy clouds. Great hiss
Breaks silence of the high abyss -

Great floods of rain do salve the ground
The flowers, rivers, balmy pines
And sun short breaks the gray and shines,
And puts a rainbow up around -
Ah no, my words can't draw the view
That I have seen, and wish you'll too...

The rampant high abyss of clouds
Throws bombs upon our thrilled heads,
And lighting frozen nature, sheds
It's heavy seas. The greenery crowds,
By wind's strong hand, do bow with glee
To thank the gracious skiey sea!

O! how can I express the scene
If it leaves speechless? My speech's dim
And toils hard to weakly gleam
The wonders that are daily seen
And heard and felt... We just don't feel
Nor hear nor see.. I wish you will!

Discover all, unlock yourself
The sounds that music takes in it,
And views that pens try to depict
And put on walls, or your book shelf,
But often fail, since this weird nature
Is something of a high'r creature.

Did you once kiss that downy cloth,
Put gracefully in gentle folds
(That each rosetree like treasure holds,
As mothers their light babies doth),
  All soaked, enlivened in that juice
  That we for self-perfuming use?

O! It is worth to live a life
But even for one kiss of them,
And but to breath those spells that hem
This tender child of Earth, and dive
  Into delight and such light muse :
  How could the the Earth such gem produce?!

How Earth, of bare stones and sands,
Bore babies so much sweet and soft,
And how the sun from it's high loft
Sends life to them, in soil's wet hands?
  For this no cause can I thus give,
  Though it gives us a cause to live.

Did your teeth once unlock that flesh,
That soil and sun has fed to mint,
And after that, like winter's wind,
Our breath becomes as cool and fresh?
  And do you know the jasmine's bloom?
  Does any plant enrich your room?

The mounts - the cliffs and lively rills,
Bright grass in dew that gleams high sun,
The sky so clear, clouds lower gone...
The city, towns and seas and hills
Are flat and low - and you stand here
Upon the lazy world of stir.

And on this heights all heavy drear
Leaves my thrilled head - I feel so free!
I start to live, to hear, to see :
That crops try to take sun's gold cheer
And move it on the watered ground -
And they succeed - now meads abound

With golden, brightly flaming hue,
Oh,  there's a flower - a night's star -
So modest, cold, a bit bizarre,
It shines so far, but here's a blue,
Like daylight sky, so fair bud...
Woo, flowers bent, a dashing scud

Just swept from here to poppy fields,
And like a sower, he did strew
A load of new seeds as he flew -
So soon new buds will be revealed!
I wish you will enjoy each hill,
Each flowers dressing it, each rill

That gives life to it's breezy rug,
And even mountain's mighty scene
That maybe from your house is seen,
And always be as free to snug
On grass or hills or by the sea
Like some brisk bird, for we are free.

I hope each morn sun will caress
Your sleepy room with it's soft touch,
Yet not too bright, and not too much -
Just as it is enough to bless,
And I do wish sun not forgets
To say good night with hot sunsets.

I also wish you won't forget
About the moon - at times bright,
At times sad, and crumbs of light
Strewn on the dark upon your head,
This night's canvas's so charming, deep
And wide, that often I can't sleep

When millions of universes
Do soar upon my eyes, o night!
Your beauty fits not in my sight
And writings, so I won't rehearse
Your myriad jewels not to blot
Your fineness I try to jot...

So, Jing Jing, please, watch the abyss
Of night, and jump it, touch each star,
Lay stir on earth  - and travel far,  (lay - earthly)
With your clean mind you'll feel the kiss
Of moon, of stars, of open space,
Unlocked for all, but in life's race

We cannot see it's real magic,
We live in gems and see them not,
We're shut in prisons of stir thought,
Isn't this sad, isn't this tragic?
I hope you'll spend a time by sky -
Think 'bout it, let thoughts soar high!

I wish you'll find some time to walk
Amid the trees, in balmy leaves,
In wind, in rain, or when none heaves
The lively green, to hear the folk
Of forest singing their song
On this sage nature's own, free tongue.

I wish you'll not forget the sea,
And touch the blue, and dive in it
To find the jewels under hid,
And taste it's salty, healing tea,
And in the sunset watch the ether
With her true husband-sea, together.

And rest your legs on that hot sand
That water washes to make it soft
And summer's sun from it's clear loft
Heats till it gets ardently bland,
  Like one "stuck on", too passionate,
  Who softs his flame, not to spoil the date.
[[[ V2
And rest your legs on that hot sand
That summer's sun from it's clear loft
Heats way too much, so sea's waves soft
It's fervor till it gets as bland
  As one "stuck on", too passionate,
  Who softs his flame, not to spoil the date.]]]

And note the rocks - they look so dead
And boring only at first sight -
Engraving all in time's flight,
Long histories on them are read,
  And making statues so much odd
  They stir my mind to shape a thought.

I hope that once you'll seam the white
Still cloth, stitched by North's airy hands,
Who wear in bridal wear the lands
That soon will bloom, to fid this bride
  Of North with modest, gentle tone
  Of first born flowers, fresh and lone.

Yet while the winter has the throne,
Enjoy it's mighty kingdom! Luxe
Is what the snowy gusts - it's dukes -
Love much and always make it done :
  Their work is of the best degree
  And which is more - the entry's free!

And after I have seen this state
In all it's glitter, it's ensemble,
My eyes got wider, mouth - more humble,
For I've seen more that could have said,
  This is a state of mind, of soul,
  Which I cannot express at all...

I also wish each time you bite
A fruit, no matter what it is,
You will enjoy the child of trees,
Enriched with mellow, fresh delight,
That has in it the warmth of south
And soil's richness, in thy mouth.

I wish each time the brisk, cool daughter
Of springs and rains slakes your dry throat
You will enjoy the drops you sought
And feel the life that sheds from water,
  And maybe wash your [charming] face
  In water's sweet relief embrace.

I wish that you will often smell
The lemon's blossom, balmy pines,
The scent of rain and hot sunshine,
Old yellow pages on which do dwell
  New worlds with their men, their stew,
  Who nose and see their green and blue...

Again rain's wave of sapphirine
Is running on my house. Like dew
In front of that empire of blue
That spilled upon the sky's wide scene
  So helplessly I stand. So quite
  On my eyes' spheres gleams nature's might...

I also wish you'll often hear
The nature's perfect chords of peace,
The flute of wind and ocean's hiss,
And all the myriad sounds - It's here -
The paradise, the sky and sea,
You only need to feel and see

The faerie that it freely spills
And brings more helpful thoughts with it ,
And peace and thrill, and strength and wit,
And with new life spent spirits fills -
  This I can't give, but wish for you -
  I have reminded, and nature 'll do.

I only wish that every time
You meet with nature, note it's charm
And taste it, feel it - stormy, calm
Or any myriad state I rhyme
  But can't express - so only You
  Can feel...or lose it in ado...

To see with eyes is your fine gift,
And taste the sweet and hear the sounds
And feel the coolness, nose wet grounds...
But all of this is often thieved
  By screens, by spleen, by vanity -
  I wish you'll always hear and see!

*** P. S.

And stay as cheerful as you are -
Do laugh and run, and play and learn,
Stay light and fresh as today's morn,
And thoughtful as a dark night's star
And... always, always stay the SUN...
So, happy birthday, and have fun!



(Forgive me, please, this verse looks mad
[Just as it's sire]! But what delight
I get when think that it's now eyed...
By You!!! Though nothing new it said
  And your fresh mind knew all  before it,
  So pardon me! By wish ignore it.)


A HAPPY BIRTHDAY MESSAGE TO MY DEAR FRIEND JING JING ON 15 DECEMBER 2022

////////////////////////// END //////////////////////////////////


The faerie that it freely spills (gives)
And brings much helpful thoughts with it ,
And peace and fire, and strength and wit,
This wakes from stir and revives lives
(And with new life old lives it fills)
This I can't give, but wish for you -
I have reminded, and nature 'll do.

2
The faerie it freely gives
And brings much helpful thoughts with it ,
And peace and silence, strength and wit,
This wakes from stir and makes our lives
Much better, this I wish for you :
I have reminded, let nature do.

----
TO PUT IN :
Yet how can I express the scene
If it leaves speechless? My speech's dim
And toils hard to weakly gleam
The wonders that are daily seen
And heard and felt... We just don't feel
Nor hear nor see.. I wish you will!

Discover all, unlock yourself
The sounds that music takes in it,
And views that pens try to depict
And put on walls, or your book shelf
But mostly fail, because this nature
Is something of a high'r creature.

The rampant high abyss of clouds
Throws bombs upon our thrilled heads,
And lighting frozen nature, sheds
It's heavy seas. The greenery crowds,
By wind's strong hand, do bow with glee
To thank the gracious skiey sea!

I wish each time the brisk, cool daughter
Of springs and rains slakes your dry throat
You will enjoy the drops you sought
And feel the life that sheds from water,
  And maybe wash your [beauteous] face
  In water's sweet relief embrace.


Did you once kiss that downy cloth,
Put gracefully in gentle folds
(Which every rosetree with awe holds
Like mothers their light babies doth),
  All soaked, enlivened in that juice
  That we for self-perfuming use?

Did you once kiss that downy cloth,
Put gracefully in gentle folds
(That each rosetree like treasure holds,
As mothers their light babies doth),
  All soaked, enlivened in that juice
  That we for self-perfuming use?

O! It is worth to live a life
But even for one kiss of them,
And but to breath those spells that hem
This tender child of Earth, and dive
  Into delight and such light muse :
  How could the the Earth such gem produce?!

How Earth, of bare stones and sands,
Bore babies so much sweet and soft,
And how the sun from it's high loft
Sends life to them, in soil's wet hands?
  For this no cause can I thus give,
  Though it gives us a cause to live.

Did your teeth once unlock that flesh,
That soil and sun has fed to mint,
And after that, like winter's wind,
Our breath becomes as cool and fresh?
  And do you know the jasmine's bloom?
  Does any plant enrich your room?

Again rain's wave of sapphirine
Is running on my house. Like dew
In front of that empire of blue
That spilled upon the sky's wide scene
  So helplessly I stand. So quite
  On my eyes' spheres gleams nature's might.


**************************************************COVERT LETTER***********************************


Dear Mr. Green! Could you excuse
That I my folly now convey
To You... We're son's of what we say,
So just as queer was my own muse
That led me to these lines... I ask
To help me... I'm in love.. And this
Makes now for me one single task -
My love, my cold-sweetheart to please!
So, being as cocky, on I'll go
To tell my strange (like love) request;
On 15 Dec, my dear love, lo,
By birthday cakes won't be as blessed
As if she'll find those lines 'bout her
On pages of  Rattle Magazine,
"I've never ever so glad been!" -
My fantasy this hope just bore;)
And truly think - how cool it'll be
If you make true this cocky plea!
With me she's cold - to touch her heart,
My gift must shine in every part!
But surely, right, you will not let
The magazine get flood with lines
"Where every part (jokingly) shines" ;)!
By some love-driven, crazy lad.
So your attention I demand -
And if you like the lines I penned,
My thought, love, problem comprehend -
And also wish to please my friend
(Though she's no more my friend nor ex,
Which this pen's heart so much can vex),
Then could you publish what I penned
Before December Fifteen... Or
Right on that day? She'll like it more!
But my submission I have spent
Before, for sonnets (all for her),
So no more work allowed to send,
While time's flowing 'gainst this deal,
I write this letter, looking for
Your mind's review and heart's good will,
With hope,  h e r  Frizen Mikhail.


PostScript - I didn't finish yet
In full my lengthy verse. All said
Is not revised, plus I may add

A few more stanzas - but i hope
You'll understand all in the scope
And with all finished stanzas cope...


V2V2V2V2V2V2


Dear Mr. Green! Could you excuse
That I my folly now convey
To You... We're son's of what we say,
So just as queer was my own muse
That led me to these lines... I ask
To help me... I'm in love.. And this
Makes now for me one single task -
My love, my cold-sweetheart to please!
So, being as cocky, on I'll go
To tell my strange (like love) request;
On 15 Dec, my dear love, lo,
By birthday cakes won't be as blessed
As if she'll find those lines 'bout her
On pages of  Rattle Magazine,
"I've never ever so glad been!" -
My fantasy this hope just bore;)
And truly think - how cool it'll be
If you make true this cocky plea!
With me she's cold - to touch her heart,
My gift must shine in every part!
But surely, right, you will not let
The magazine get flood with lines
"In which each part (jokingly) shines"
By some love-driven, quirky lad.
So your attention I demand -
And if you like the lines I penned
(Attached to this queer scroll I send),
My thought, love, problem comprehend -
And also wish to please my friend
(Though she's no more my friend nor ex,
Which this pen's heart so much can vex),
Then may you publish what I bore?
Before December Fifteen... Or...
Right on that day? She'll like it more!
But my submissions all before
I spent for sonnets (all for her),
So, no more lines let to submit,
While time's flowing 'gainst this deal,
I write this, looking for a bit
Of your mind's eye and heart's good will,
With hope,  h e r  Frizen Mikhail.


PostScript - I didn't finish yet
In full my lengthy verse. All said
Is not revised, plus I may add

A few more stanzas - but i hope
You'll understand all in the scope
And with all finished stanzas cope...

You may think too - gone is his mind,
But why but me this nut did find
To send me letters of such kind?

Then know, my mind is truly gone,

Yet feels that Y O U 're the only one

Who can accept, and understand,
The madness that wounded men send,
And send me back without contempt!












That night
I fell in void,
In space where lives no light,
Nor sweeps with shining hope an asteroid,

I felt
Like I have sunk
And all the light I held
Was done by water (cold!) and by it drunk...

I died
But lived there still.
Why live I still? A riot
'Gainst God and He's still with the gracious will?!

But why
He did not move
Me down to hell, so nigh
To sin that I my closest kin have proved?

To plea
Him to forgive
The sin that voided me
And let again with stars on night's paints live?

And find
This rich gem Earth
Not darkened by my mind
But basking by His grace with shine it's worth?

O! Lord!
But how rot I
Can see the world not rot?
Won't it then litter in this dirty eye?

Or You
Now let my soul
Be washed by salty dew
That from the Heavens, from your hand does fall?!











FOR THE IRELAND POEM MESSAGE WRIT LIES LERE :



From Mikhail
To your kind will:

Dear Mr. Green!
Among this lines
Some too dim mean
Because not shines

This mind with word -
I'll tell you why -
English's the third
Of languages I

Bear on my tongue,
And not the first -
By foreign songs
Was my speech nursed...

My secret's told -
Here's my request -
If this left mold
On lines well-dressed,
Like on buds holds
Devouring pest,

On lines you loved,
But set aside
Since this pest proved
That they rot hide -

Then point at it -
This wrongful pest -
My alien's wit
Will do its best
To clean the seed
You did divest
From planting in
Your magazine.