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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  To Whom It May Concern:
  
  
  
  
  
  
   * * *
  The Painter awoke and took his brush
  He wanted perfection, so he did not rush.
  Careful motions started it all
  And the first snowflakes began to fall
  
  As brush was moving quicker
  yet not clumsy at all
  heavier snow continued to fall
  
  Then in the middle of the kingdom of snow
  something different started to grow
  A few touches later you could distinctly see
  Two human figures, those were YOU AND ME
  
  Mistake of the painter? Mistake of the paint?
  Or something eternal, that can never fade?
  He finished his painting, the paint became dry,
  we were heading to UA, you and I.
  
  A Date
  a meeting, a choice, a smile, soft voice
  a bar, a drink, a smile, a wink
  a dance, a hug, a chat, a drug
  a threat, a fright, a scream, a fight
  
  Emotions
  Emotions rule the world
  The people are their slaves
  We're doing what we're told
  Until we're in our graves
  
  Emotions have no soul
  They're parasites indeed
  They play a major role
  In our every deed
  
  Like in a tomoe sign
  There's some light in dark
  Sometimes emotions shine
  And leave a positive mark
  
  Emotions do reflect
  The beauty of our world
  Where white is mixed with black
  
  Cycle
  Every part of nature fades
  To shine again tomorrow
  and a brief period separates
  its death at night
  from its revival in the morrow
  
  Immigration
  The branches are moving silently
  The trees are quiet, yet mysteriously scary
  Their dark long hands extend joyfully
  The fall is here, they are no longer hairy
  
  The forest is asleep; it's time for rest
  Like lunatics the owls fly around
  The other birds are dreaming in their nests
  Not breathing, nor making a single sound
  
  As I am standing here at night
  I know the forest will never accept me
  That's why I experience only fright
  And a great desire to run, to flee
  
  Eternal stranger to this world
  Of deadly claw, and chilly night
  I'm like a samurai without a sword
  Who's helpless, who's not able to fight
  
  Memories
  Distant memories scream out,
  But the fire is burning out
  Voices fill the cloud of smoke
  Break the silence on my loke
  Dying fire and dying voices
  Dying hopes and dying choices
  And with diligence and sorrow
  I am waiting for tomorrow
  
  Response To "Thoughts On Life"
  You say, dear child, that life is not fair.
  Your opinion is not unique, nor is it rare.
  Many people share your point of view
  Nevertheless, I do not think it is true
  Confined to our lives,like plates are to fudge
  how can we conclude ? How can we judge?
  From the little things we know
  Life might not seem very just
  We know so LITTLE, though,
  that a doubt is a MUST
  As I can see, you have a good sight
  you see beautiful sunsets
  and lovely stars at night
  so why do you assume that life is not just?
  Our bodies are too imperfect for us to trust
  Our life is an endless labyrinth of ways
  like the sun is the supplier of infinite rays
  Don't look at our choices as either "WRONG" or "RIGHT"
  then you'll find within a real EYESIGHT ! ! !
  
  To Odessa
  The time had changed your shape a lot
  you're born anew,you shed your old and wrinkled skin
  but though I'm boiling in US's melting pot
  all Odessites (both new and old) and me will always be akin
  
  Your beauty lies in buildings and in sea
  in sunny dawns and in its calm sunsets
  in noisy market, crowded streets, and me
  and thousands other Odessa represents
  
  Water
  changing to ice, changing to snow
  feeding the soil so the plants will grow...
  I dote on your cyclic stability
  and satisfaction of human desire
  your grace and perfection in battle with fire
  and that cherub face of infinity
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Новые книги авторов СИ, вышедшие из печати:
О.Болдырева "Крадуш. Чужие души" М.Николаев "Вторжение на Землю"

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