The Soul Looks with Squinty Eyes. Victor Sanzh

to Rest

      Only now I started to find out,

      That we have come to the line.

      In the calendar I cross out,

      Like holidays which have passed by.

      No, I’m not used to be broken,

      To cry about day which have gone,

      We will be more than once again woken

      On crest like a fish in a pond.

      Old age has come insensibly,

      Let the orchestra play its best,

      To symbolize, of course,

      That we should have a rest.

      We will not portray patriots,

      Everything has its time and place.

      We should give away our governance,

      The youth is striding ahead!

      The Sail

      The mist in the storm…

      Or the storm in the mist…

      The gale has arisen,

      And tore up the cloth.

      Watch crew dashed into battle,

      Upon shrouds and sailyards,

      To safe themselves

      From devil’s claws.

      Sails and sails

      They are waving on yardarm,

      As though they struggle

      To throw their cadets,

      The future steersmen,

      Who are pulling the gantline,

      And harden their temper

      In the hurricanes.

      Sails and sails

      The watch crew is able

      To safe their ship

      From devil’s claws.

      And the silence again,

      Calm sea and sun makes warm

      The cadets, fellows,

      Who battled on the rail

      For the life of their ship,

      The ship on sails!

      All-colored Palette

      The painter and the poet is one creature,

      They want to foresee palette of days,

      Palette of joy, of love and wishes,

      Palette of jolly rays.

      They do not want to paint it

      in dark colors,

      Palette itself is of different shades.

      I’d like to say that people of all nations

      Should live in friendship

      and in grace.

      The planet is large, a lot of space…

      So why are peoples in conflict?

      It’s better nature mysteries embrace,

      And far-away planets to conquer!

      October

      October gilded trees again

      And murmurs softly with a stream,

      October rain on a window-pane

      Is a fare-well of autumn dream.

      No Going Round in Circles…

      Oh, how I want sometimes to stop,

      But I can’t afford…

      No going round in circles in my life.

      My body’s aging,

      But the thoughts are getting fit,

      So, go onward…

      Without honors

      And without greed.

      Strange Weather

      So strange weather,

      Nature’s dancing outside,

      Though grey clouds are around,

      And the wind doesn’t want to subside.

      And the trees are so severe,

      As though lashing with a whip,

      Little hares tired of jumping

      Under bushes are asleep.

      Poppies greet us with a bow,

      And invite us to hopak,

      Camomiles stand in a row

      Dancing funny krakowiak.

      All the nature is awaken:

      It turned into circle dance,

      Maybe it’s imagination,

      No, the gate gives rattling sound.

      The wind bounced to the heavens

      To the opened doors,

      Wrapped itself into clouds-feathers

      And stole a horse.

      The sun started to smile at us,

      Coming into its force,

      And the hares here woke up,

      The grass rose forth.

      Do not forget…

      I look at the portrait

      in a black mournful frame

      And I do not believe,

      that your end to you came,

      I do not believe,

      that you are not here,

      As though for me

      all sunrises disappear

      Mother, dearest friend,

      only late I regret,

      That I couldn’t in time

      from misfortune protect.

      I didn’t value enough

      all your motives and hopes

      And I used to tell you,

      there are others like me,

      That there’s everything in life,

      both darkness and sun

      And I always forgot,

      that you are the only one.

      That you, mother, is the only one

      both now and later on,

      That you are mother when

      the life is upside-down…

      Do not forget, my friend,

      your mother is there for you,

      No one should his mother forget,

      remember this crucial truth…

      Not Remembering Itself

      Time is moving the arrows of fate,

      And the universe races, uncoiling the spiral.

      Life is dissolving in space,

      Turns into something, not remembering itself.

      We Begin to Value

      Life