The Soul Looks with Squinty Eyes. Victor Sanzh

>International Union of writers

      107023, Moscow Russian Federation,

      Elektrozavodskaya Metro Station,

      Bolshaya Semenovskaya street, house 40, building 1,

      5th entrance, 1st floor, of. 511

      tel. [phone]

      Originally written in Russian.

      Translated by Tibor Kramer

      First edition

      978-5-906957-40-5

      © Victor Sanzh, 2017

      © International Union of writers, 2017

      I am Victor Sanzh, the member of the Russian Union of Writers, nominee of the national literary Prize “Poet of the Year 2015”, “Debut of the Year 2015”, “Lyrics of the Year 2015”, “Poet of the Year 2016”, “Writer of the Year 2016”, “RUW Prose of 2016”, printed in the catalog of contemporary Literature XX | X of Moscow International Book Exhibition Fair-2016, nominee for the literary prize of Sergei Yesenin “My Russia 2017”.

      I studied at school, the Naval Academy at the navigational department “Deep sea navigator”, at the Institute at the construction department “Industrial and civil construction-ICC”. I lived and worked in Estonia, Tallinn. I attended a literary circle at the House of Fleet Officers under the guidance of the writer of the second rank captain Leonid Zaitsev, who wrote the book “Khanchula” and other works. After the collapse of the USSR, I worked as an entrepreneur. The manuscripts of poems and prose burned down because of the arson of the office by ill-wishers. In 2002, I moved to Ireland, where I live till present. I am married and have five adult sons. A candidate member to the IUW – international union of writers.

      It is for what we strive

      We often face the gaiety of life,

      Which sometimes we cannot stand,

      Family’s honor is for what we strive,

      With mind and wisdom should we save it

      And understand.

      So that children had happy faces

      There are still many dragons in the world,

      With cold breath that causes heart to pound,

      that want to coat with frost

      The smiles of children,

      Running around,

      And to clap in irons life,

      In the crystal chains,

      Enclose it with an ice wall,

      To freeze the human dream,

      Like an icicle in early spring.

      People of all races – team up,

      And take each other’s hands

      There’s no sense to fight,

      Better to search for peaceful lands,

      So as evil dragons in tales

      left no signs, no traces,

      So that life could bloom under the sun,

      And children had happy faces!

      Frozen star

      Voidness has climbed to power,

      As if the life has disappeared…

      The heart is aching so much,

      I feel bad whirling, so feared.

      Strange thoughts are twisting in the mind,

      As Gorynych breathing with rage,

      Thought that we would live so long,

      But frozen star has come to stage…

      Here is your so called infinity,

      Galactic Chaos…

      Happiness can’t do for ages its activity,

      It’s like catastrophic oasis…

      Flowers

      We should give flowers to women right today

      And smile to them right now and today,

      So as their dreams come true and stay

      Not in a year, but right now, this day!!!

      Morning

      With a smile I look at the full morning,

      Enjoy the sun, the foliage and water outside.

      The feeling in my heart is forming

      That I’ll murge into one with nature and will bide.

      I’ll wander on the tops of trees,

      On path, without touching grass,

      I’ll swim to the clouds,

      As if to feathers

      And put my palm on their

      Air-transparent brows.

      I’ll get some water from the well

      Vigorous water

      And I’ll get drunk with their

      Invigorating fortune.

      Maybe I’ll turn to the fire of sun…

      But will not burn because morning has come

      I will smile from the height to the trees, to the grass

      And to birds,

      Because this morning I feel easy and so light!

      You’re not the artwork love

      You’re not the artwork love

      Your life’s by me embraced.

      You’re so spring-like,

      By the grass and stones mashed.

      And you mash me to pain,

      As if it is for what you strive

      To squeeze my life from brain

      And say: I WANT TO FEEL ALIVE!

      To Dima, my son

      When, I hope, you grow up,

      When life gives you the knowlegde,

      I think you’ll be able to stand up

      To find the clue to your own

      Fortune…

      You’re the smartest guy,

      Who has the power to find

      The clue; indulge yourself in light

      for joy and dreams defined…

      To Andrey, my son

      If you got the cup

      Of good and tasty wine,

      Drink it, dear son,

      By droplets

      till the bottom shines.

      And let the passion fill

      young and crazy hearts,

      Experience, my son,

      The feeling, when warmth starts…

      Let sweet trace of oblivion

      Remain still in your soul,

      This road is called joy,

      Live and chase your goal…

      And jumping into depth,

      Taste your fate to dregs,

      In