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The careful and obscure sound

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The careful and obscure sound
of fruit that fell down from a tree
amidst the ceaseless melody
of deep and quiet forest's silence
 

There’s no need in any speech...

There’s no need in any speech,
No subject would be worth to teach,
Though wistful it is good of the whole
Of a free and wild animal dark soul.
No subject it would want to teach,
No ability of even simple speech.
And it swims as if a dolphin calf
In the world’s deep waters often rough.
 

Oh Heaven, in my dreams you’ll come about...

Oh Heaven, in my dreams you’ll come about!
I can’t believe you are completely blind
And like an empty page my day flamed out
Some smoke and ashes - nothing more to find!
 

I washed my face at night in the yard

I washed my face at night in the yard —
The earth shined with crude stars.
The ray of stars - like salt on an axe,
A barrel full to the brim cools.
 
The gates are closed with a lock,
And the earth is harsh in conscience, —
Clearer than the truth of a fresh canvas,
Finding the foundation is unlikely.
 
A star melts in the barrel, like a grain of salt,
And the water is colder, blacker,
Clearer than death, saltier than misfortune,
And Earth is truer and more terrifying.
 

Epigrama despre Stalin

Vieţuim, dar sub noi ţara tace mormânt.
Când vorbim, nu se-aude măcar un cuvânt.
Iar când vorbele par să se-nchege puţin,
Pomenesc de plăieşul urcat în Kremlin.
Are degete groase şi grele,
Sunt cuvintele lui de ghiulele.
Râd gândacii mustăţilor strâmbe
Şi-i lucesc a năpastă carâmbii.
 
Are-o turmă de sfetnici cu gâturi subţiri -
Semioameni slujindu-l umili -
Care şuieră, miaună, latră câineşte,
Numai el, fulgerând, hăcuieşte.
Potcovar de ucazuri, forjează porunci:
Glonţ în ochi, glonţ în frunte şi glonţ în rărunchi.
Orice moarte-i desfată deplin
Pieptu-i larg de cumplit osetin.
 

Indescribable sorrow

Indescribable sorrow
Opened two huge eyes,
Awake became the flower vase
And spilled its crystal over.
 
The room drunk all
That languor- medicine so sweet!
A kingdom so small
Absorbed so much of sleep.
 
Red wine a little bit
A little bit of sunny May-
And, breaking thin biscuit,
The thinnest fingers whiteness.