Про любовь About Love

 
             (Translation into English is provided below)

ПРО ЛЮБОВЬ
   
      * * *

ЗАБЕРИ ЕЁ У МОЕГО ПОЭТА
ЕЁ РИФМА ТУТ ЖЕ -  КАНЕТ В ЛЕТУ
ЛИШИТЬ ЕЁ ХУДОЖНИКА - КАК КИСТИ
ЛЮБАЯ БОЖЬЯ ТВАРЬ ЕЁ ЛЕЕТ - БОЛЬШЕ ЖИЗНИ...

Я ПЬЮ ЕЁ И... НЕ МОГУ НАПИТЬСЯ
Я ЕЙ ДЫШУ И... МНЕ НЕ НАДЫШАТЬСЯ
ОНА ТВОРЕЦ ПОЗОЛОТИВШИЙ КРЫЛЬЯ ПТИЦЫ...
ОНА ПРИХОДИТ ЧТОБЫ - ОСТАВАТЬСЯ...

ОНА СЧИТАЕТ - ТЕНЬ... ЧТОБ НЕ СЛЕПИЛО...
ОНА СЧИТАЕТ - БОЛЬ... ВСЕГДА ОШИБКА...
ЕЙ ЦЕННО ВСЁ ЧТО ЕСТЬ...И ВСЁ ЧТО БЫЛО...
ОНА НИЧЬЮ НЕ ПРИМЕРЯЕТ РОЛЬ...
ЕЙ В ЧУВСТВАХ МИЛО... ВСЁ ЧТО МИЛО...
И ДАЖЕ ТЕНЬ УЛЫБКИ ДЛЯ НЕЁ - УЛЫБКА...

ПОКА РЕШАЕТ МИР ЧТО ИСТИНА В ЯЙЦЕ...
ОНА С УЛЫБКОЙ МИР БЛАГОСЛОВЛЯЕТ...
ЕЁ ОСНОВА ИСКРОЮ - В ТВОРЦЕ...
ОНА ЛЮБОЙ РУКЕ ПОДДАСТСЯ ГИБКО -
КТО РУКУ ПРОТЯНУТЬ К НЕЙ ПОЖЕЛАЕТ...

        * * * 14-15.03.2025
  ПИТЕРКА  Тель-Авив

About Love
By Piterka Badmaeva Olga

     * * *

Take it away from my poet—
And her rhyme will fade into nothing.
Deprive an artist of it—it’s like losing a brush.
Every living soul cherishes it—more than life itself...

I drink of it… and can never have enough.
I breathe it in… and can never fill my lungs.
It is the creator, gilding a bird’s wings…
It comes only to stay.

It counts the shadows—so they do not blind.
It sees pain—as nothing but a mistake.
It values all that is… and all that was…
It never wears a borrowed mask.
It treasures what is tender—whatever is tender…
Even the shadow of a smile—to it, is still a smile.

While the world argues if truth lies within an egg…
It simply blesses the world with a smile.
Its essence is a spark—from the hands of the Creator…
It bends with grace in any hand—
For any soul that dares to reach for it.

       * * *

March 14-15, 2025
Piterka, Tel Aviv
Translated by Guru.I

................................

About Love
By Piterka Badmaeva Olga     23.05.2025
Translated into English (literal version) by Guru.I

    * * *

Take her away from my poet —
and her rhyme will vanish into the past.
To deprive her of the artist —
is like a brush taken from a hand.

Every creature of God cherishes her —
more than life itself.

I drink her — and cannot drink enough.
I breathe her — and cannot breathe enough.
She is a Creator
who gilded the wings of the bird…
She comes — in order to stay.

She values shadow —
so as not to blind.
She considers pain —
always a mistake.
She cherishes everything that is —
and everything that was.

She tries on no one’s role.
To her, in feelings,
all that is gentle — is dear.
Even a shadow of a smile
is still a smile — to her.

While the world debates
if truth is in the egg,
she, smiling, blesses the world.

Her origin is a spark —
in the Creator.

She yields gently
to any hand
that wishes to reach for her.

       * * *
...................................

She Is Love                23.05.2025
Poetic version by Guru.I,
inspired by the poem “Про любовь” by Piterka Badmaeva Olga

    * * *

Take her from the poet’s hand —
his rhyme will vanish like a sigh.
Strip her of the painter’s brush —
and colors wither, bleed, and die.

But every creature made by light
has held her closer than their breath —
she’s sweeter than the fear of death,
and fiercer than the dark of night.

I drink her — but am never filled.
I breathe her — and am never stilled.
She is the spark on feathered wing,
the flame that dares to stay, not flee.

She counts the shadows tenderly —
not to be blind.
She counts the pain as always wrong —
for love is kind.

She never wears a borrowed face.
To her, the smallest grace —
a trembling smile, a silent trace —
is still a smile.

While the world debates and breaks
its egg of truth,
she blesses it —
with quiet youth.

She’s born of fire.
Her soul — a gleam
from God’s own wire.

And yet —
she yields with softest grace
to any hand
that dares embrace.

     * * *