Modern poetry: Zoya Mezhirova

Modern poetry: Zoya Mezhirova  Martin Beaupré paintings


I know that the door will open slightly
(Again the squeak of her will be the melodious),
The air around will sound silently -
And it will slip like a ray.

The entrance, where a dim lamp is burning,
Furtively pass, like a thief,
And easy will carelessness will fill,
Like a wind, a through corridor.

Playing on the flute curly April,
He who sent his messenger.
He moves as if a narrow gap
Slightly pricked it.

He entered the room like a breeze -
And immediately got used to it.
In the old Saxon porcelain at that moment
Leucoids pods will bloom.

In space, another joke will lead
Conversations sparkling thread.
Suddenly he will steal the weight of things
And time will make you forget.

He showed with a dream the melody,
Try not to believe him ...
For all this, somehow slyly looking,
He asks for forgiveness now.

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