Vitalia Pak was born in 1981, in Saint-Petersburg, Russia. She writes in English, Russian, Italian and French. The theme of her poetry is humanity and world beauty, love and friendship. She likes poetry by Arthur Rimbaud and Theophil Gautier, William Shakespeare and Robert Burns.
She prefers to choose precise image and to portray it with the magic music of lines and words, rhymes and rhythms, also including the power of intelligence and taste of her mind. Vitalia Pak presents “Pineland”, her second book, after the book “Blue meadow” published in 2008 in St.Petersburg, Polytechnic University edition.
Sonnet on a milk
White bad, white silk.
The Sonnet on a milk.
I love my red poppy.
I love it, I hope it.
It comes in light waves,
The love, which he waits for.
The love, which he wants to have,
The love that he can’t hide.
Red bed, red silk,
The sonnet on a milk,
The sonnet on a blood.
The love, which I’ve got.
The love, which I found,
The sky, all the down.
2008
Violets
Violets are velvet,
Violets are bright,
Or will be, or shall be
Woman, wife or bride.
Violets are velvet,
Violets are warm.
I have got my mother,
I have got my mom.
2007
Deceitful part
When I begin to talk to roses
My prince just goes away, you know.
I don’t wait for the change of poses,
He doesn’t love them, not at all.
He loves to eat, to work, to love me,
But difference makes us fall apart.
Yes, I love roses, he does not love.
Be, king, my lover, second part.
Deceitful princess now is lonely,
She talks to roses every day.
Those king and prince, together only
Go to their fields to be away.
“Why they don’t love the story, roses?”-
Asks girl and kisses other men.-
“To read sonnets, to change the poses
In sex and love, here is my realm”.
2007
I am
I’m French girl,
While cooking French entrée and soup.
I’m French girl,
While kissing, while being with You.
I’m Russian,
While bicycle riding in June,
Through mountains and hills,
Summertime, afternoon.
I’m English like England. I’m Scottish like Scotch.
I’m Welsh like a flowers of Wales.
I’m Finnish in Finland. In Deutschland I’m Deutsch.
I’m Irish on Saint Patrick’s days.
2003
La Fleur
Au revoir
Felix, bon soir,
Et toi, Irene.
Andre, au revoir,
Au revoir, c’est rien.
Rien de ma vie.
Rien de le jour.
J’ai dit au revoir
A mon amour.
Homme
Tu es une fleur,
Oui, ton visage.
Le chant de couer,
Beaute de l’age.
Tu es un fleur
Depuis vingt ans.
Tu as l’odeur
Jusqu’a trente-un.
Le mot
Il pleuvee...
Situation...
Malgre, je n’ai pas
Le question
Pour cette discoussion
De ma vie privee.
2008
Encyclopedia
Love
Well,
Don’t make things better,
Don’t keep this letter.
Where do we find it?
Not in the sky place.
Not on snowy time.
Not in a rose fields,
Not in a blue river.
Say, that was fine.
Adoration is a red-red vine.
It’s real.
Like a “red-red rose”,
Burns, I suppose...
Absolution
Whether it’s fine,
Or good,
But I catch the mood.
So, it’s strong,
Right or wrong,
High or low,
I don’t know.
Maybe “up”,
Maybe “fall”,
There is love
In my soul.
Diplomacy
This is the material of illusion,
Soul and eyes, an evolution.
Green river-
Cold shiver.
Soul is hot,
Eyes are not.
But the beauty of your eyes
Made the world another size.
But the beauty of your soul
Made my “nothing” to my “all”.
Adoration
Beautiful music,
And it’s rainy in my street.
It’s high -
To come up blue
Looking at you,
That’s why
I’m not shy.
Beautiful music,
And it’s rainy in my street.
Where do we find the beauty?
What do we really need?
Ethics
Won’t say “yes” or “no”.
It will be much more…
More than other measures,
More than crowns and treasures.
Three shirt verses on April day
***
Even if the autumn falls.
Even if the winter grows.
I will be the morning shine,
I will be the summertime.
Just for You, I love your eyes,
To the end or start of times.
***
Just a pleasure,
Just a blue moment,
To feel close to you,
To feel boring.
To sing song for you.
To win glory.
To play games to you,
To say “sorry”.
***
Now the love is a green sea,
Where the boat is his eyes,
And a lee is soul,
And his life is unknown.
For others? Oh no, for me.
I wonder why
I can’t live or die,
I can’t sleep or lie
Anymore.
2008
Jazz
A Woman loves it,
She likes a jazz.
He makes his music,
Oh yes, he does.
He’s not romantic,
She’s not a dream.
Love was the painting:
Her lips and skin.
Love is a painting
In pink and white,
She’s lucky lady,
He’s lucky guy.
The day
The day of my love
Is a day of a week.
It’s Sunday or Monday,
A kiss or a flick.
The day of my feelings,
But poems can’t talk.
My feelings are crystal,
The words are the fog.
Don’t leave
The airport and plains
And I can’t let you go.
Don’t leave me,
Don’t leave me,
Don’t leave me alone.
Don’t help with my baggage,
Don’t tell me “good luck”,
I don’t want to Saghi,
I want to be back.
Don’t tell me good bye,
And don’t leave me alone.
I don’t want to die,
I’ll stay here, at home.
Sounds
Jazz & Harmony,
Sounds out.
You don’t catch
What I’m talking about.
Jazz is humour,
Music’s fun,
I don’t love you,
What you have done?
Enc
I’ll never ask a question,
“Roses, rose field, attention”.
I’ll never ask you where
Drowning, drawback, my passion.
Love is a sort of story,
Color or light or dark.
Maybe another poet
Will make it good or bad.
My swear
If other words will fall, like rain,
And if will be the other day,
I won’t say “no” to magic dreams.
I won’t say “no” to private themes,
Which all the words of truth and love…
I love you, tell me, where you are?
2008
Pineland
FIRST
I am looking at the sky
It’s like same-colored eyes.
I’m looking to the wind
And see our stars in height.
The water and the wave
Will hug my naked skin.
I am catching sunny-rain
Of gold September stream.
The whisper of its leaves,
And clouds, gliding fast.
And transparent sunbeams
Grow such as our Love.
MY NORTH
My North is green, and black,
And grey.
And white, and blue,
And as I say:
It’s peace and calm.
It’s height and way
To Shambala or Mandalay.
MORNING
Moveless motion of a Time,
Silence of the land.
We are couple, you are mine,
Both we understand.
When I smile – sunlight appears,
When you smile – both hemispheres
Seems to be like Paradise.
Look into my eyes!
Mornings burnish golden sand,
World like aquarelle.
Lake is mirror, river’s bend,
Pine-trees amber smell.
When I kiss – our hearts are growing.
When you kiss – our hearts in glory.
Feel like Paradise.
Turquoise of the skies.
Clouds like necklace, dazzling fan
Made out of a pearl.
Swans are floating to the sun.
Keep me, I’m your girl.
I’m your Queen, your Star, your Dear.
You’re my breath and atmosphere.
I’m your Paradise
I’m your All, my Nice!
Our beauty is Divine.
Our mind is high.
Yes, we see a brilliant Line
And you ask me why?
There’s no answer – only feeling.
There’s no word – just our willing
Live in Paradise.
Our Love is wise.
***
Three candles on a table
And dark-blue satin cloth.
We’ll lit the fire later
And now just our Love.
Your warmth and love inside me
And mine inside your all.
Like fireworks and riding
To something more than World.
And after we just sitting
And looking at the light.
And our glances greeting
New birth of our life.
The sapphire of night-time
And harmony, and joy.
You love me endless, tightly.
I love you too, my boy.
We don’t remember something
What was before we met.
I feed you, you are smiling
My arms caress your head.
And nobody are kidding
And nobody in fun.
Though you are fond of teasing
Your Lady number one.
But obviously life-fact
For us and both we know:
Our time began from gold spark,
Become eternal glow.
Let’s kiss each other tender
And say “good night, my Heart.
My Universe, My Angel,
My real second part”.
UNISEX POEM
I was walking around the lake
Through the beautiful woods to high hills.
Didn’t count grass fields and fast springs,
I was walking around the lake.
And I saw little land of the lake.
It was island with pine-trees and birches.
It was colored like bright autumn torches
In a wonderful land of the lake.
And the system of life is a lake,
Where we sailing toward our best
See mysterious signs in a Text
Reading signs in a dance of the wave.
Déjà vu, oh, I knew you before.
Lovely face, all your thoughts and your soul.
And your eyes, when you opened the door
Brought me up to Eternity throne.
And Moon River’s beginning to flow.
And Sun Winds are beginning to blow.
Just your eyes in my mind and my goal.
Greatest news I have already known.
No one finds what it means, but, God’s Sake!
I just want You with me on this lake.
I was walking around the lake
Through the beautiful woods to high hills.
Didn’t count grass fields and fast springs.
I was walking toward you to take.
SEVEN CLUES
Somebody praised my shoes
Somebody let me know
That there are seven clues
To open shuted soul.
The first is called a bell
Long-awaited, sounds well.
Or maybe it’s a knock
Long-awaited, door’s unlocked.
The second is the glance
And making reverence.
The third is called a flash
It seems that walls are crushed.
The fourth is “do you want?”
“No, not yet” – it’s affront.
The fifth is my regret,
But short like tennis set.
`cos sixth is holyday
and we begin our way.
And seventh clue is light
And seventh clue is height.
It’s maybe sex in bed.
It’s maybe kiss or net
Of feelings, poems, songs
Or luxuries, or scones.
But change scone to a nut
I mean not to get fat.
Or bring me giant rose
Or let me kiss your nose.
The seventh clue is Love
And our happy laugh.
And when we use all seven
We’re flying in a Heaven.
They open our life:
You’re husband, I’m a wife.
We’ve drown in tenderness.
Let’s keep our happiness.
WOUNDED ANGEL
(to H. Simberg’s picture "The wounded angel”)
I was wounded by cold ice
And for years closed my eyes.
I was wounded by bad guy,
NOONE HEARD MY SILENT CRY.
I was wounded by strong hand
There was scar and quitted land.
Wounded angel in your place,
Wounded angel from the Space.
Nature treats me, air revives.
Angel opens brilliant eyes.
I felt cold knife in my heart.
I felt stopping of my blood.
I touched death pale by my skin.
In few short words I was killed.
Wounded angel in your place,
Wounded angel from the Space.
Something treats me and revives.
Through my lashes shine my eyes.
I felt emptiness and pain
Turning tears into rain.
I felt metal in a chest.
I felt how to be breathless.
Wounded angel will not die
Wounded angel from the sky.
Bring me water from the spring.
Give me honey and a ring.
I will eat and smile and drink.
I will treat my wounded wing.
I will put the ring on heart
And my blood again is hot.
Something treats me and revives.
Angel opens brilliant eyes.
WHITE LIST
People call me a princess
I am only sixteen.
People call me a beauty
So, I am seventeen.
Someone says I was power,
Someone says I was flower.
And I heard many love prayers,
And you played many love games.
And you look at my face,
And we spell our names.
People say I was gorgeous
I am only eighteen.
People say I was ment-shock
I’ve just came to nineteen.
Someone says I was moon-rise.
Someone says I was sky-prize.
And I heard many love prayers,
And you played many love games.
And you look at my face,
And we spell our names.
I receive angel’s e-mail
When I am twenty one.
I was told I was fairy-tale,
I was told I was Sun.
Someone finds pearls around me,
Someone finds des plumes blanch.
Now I’ve got diamond crown,
Pour toujours je suis ange.
And I heard many love prayers,
And you played many love games.
And you look at my face.
And God knows I’m your blaze.
MITTWOCH
Hey, it’s a world of stuffs,
Feelings mere glaze them.
Like some kind of fondue,
Have you ever taste them?
You’ve bought Swiss watch,
For what you’ve bought?
To check the time of our date.
`Cos you don’t live
Without what?
Without me, my great.
Ha, world is stuff
And life is stuff.
And spirit mere glaze them.
It’s seems to be a puff,
Or different kinds of fluff.
I’ve bought new dress,
For what I’ve bought?
Because tonight we’ll go to dance.
`Cos it’s a ball.
A ball of what?
A ball of stars and reigns.
I see your eyes
I hesitate that world is mere stuff.
I see your face and
Just in case…
Okay, I said enough.
You’ve bought a yacht
For what you bought?
To sail with me around what?
`Cos you don’t live without sort
Of things I’ve got a lot.
You thrilled by me,
You hesitate
That life is mere stuff.
You want me, right?
You hold me tight.
And it’s not bluff, it’s love.
I’ve bought a garden
For what I bought?
To pick our flowers just for us.
`Cos you’ve just said me…
Said me what?
You did, you said enough.
Oh, it’s a world of stuffs,
But feelings do not glaze them.
It’s love that makes us love
And choose right things to take them.
We bought our place together.
We ordered finest weather.
We fixed up all details
Combine our stellar days.
TO US
We remember sky- blue and a gleam,
Nature showed us her morning-time film.
World around us, the state and a peace.
Nature gave us the morning-time bliss.
And today we just see urbanese,
And accounts decrease and increase.
Racing, sizing and boarding our roads.
And a million faces and words.
And we start up and run or just shout.
We don’t want our visas run out.
Life is visa from nowhere and dark
To a wonderful place we are now.
Huge amounts of venues to live.
Items, values to take and to give.
Many glances and gestures, so on…
But sometimes we must see the milestone.
We must hear the Destiny Bells,
Burry stupid resistance in cells.
Open windows and gateways for new.
Open ears and eyes – black and blue.
Tense our sense, our brain, our view.
Just to see “Oh, my God, it is You!”
You feel bad and completely alone
Used to live not a life, but its clone.
Didn’t feel fire-bird and run fast,
Thinking over the time which is past.
It’s a wrong way, but put on right track.
Put on gas new love-car and good luck!
And again there are sky-blue and gleam.
Nature shows us her beautiful film.
World around us, the state and a peace.
We are given the glittering bliss.
SCENE D’AMOUR (LISTENING TO S. BRIGHTMAN)
Oh, I love you so much – come to me, get in touch.
Flute is singing its song – lonely night is too long.
Oh, I miss you so hard – I’m not ruling my heart.
Voice is trembling so strong – waiting for you so long.
You don’t want be alone – you are mine, come along.
Come to see me and stay – turn two ways in one way.
There will be a road – made from silver and gold.
There will be a lace – our destiny trace.
There’s a spirit of World, growing here, inside us.
We will make our World, our Planets and Stars.
We will live our life on a top of the World.
Come to see me, and stay. And just tell me a Word.
And all things we possess will be better than dream.
I’ll be happy again, playing on my violin.
SUNDAY STORY, SEPTEMBER 7TH, 2003
If a body catch a body
Coming through the rye. (J. Salinger)
If a body meet a body
Coming through the rye. (R. Burns)
If somebody meet somebody
In a land of pines.
Does it mean you’ve met your Goddess?
Yes, indeed, it’s time.
If somebody waits somebody
And the day is fine.
Does it mean you’ve met your Goddess?
Yes, indeed. It’s time.
If somebody asks somebody:
How and where and why?
And they feel themselves as fond of,
Yes, indeed. It’s time.
But when body leaves a body
Being deaf and blind,
Does it mean you’ve lost your Goddess?
And will never find?
Does it mean you’ve lost your woman,
Keeping someone else?
Yes, indeed. You’re stupid human.
And you’ve lost your chance.
There’s no help, no reservations
Living human’s lines…
But if body catch a body
In a land of pines.
If a body catch a body
Coming through the rye.
If a body hold a body
Coming through the rye.
If a body hold a body near him, beside.
THIRTEEN (PETIT COMPTINE)
East or west
Nevertheless,
Thirteen is happiest
Count and fest.
Don’t be afraid of
Whatever you’ve heard.
Drink some Martini
Shaken not stirred.
East or west
Nevertheless,
Week-ends or weekdays
Must be like fest.
Don’t be afraid of
Whatever you’ve done.
Choose what you need
For your wealth, health and fun.
East or west
Nevertheless,
Questions and answers
Are mere a test.
Don’t be afraid of
Whatever you’ve told.
Count your points
Or just know what you know.
Searching for Grail’s
Nice idea, but old.
Woman creates
Her perfection and hold.
East or West
Nevertheless.
South or North,
Loft in a golf.
SILENT TALK
The world where we are living
And loving, and giving…
Like palette of an Artist of Eternity.
Irreproachable perfection of oak-tree branch,
Its smell, shape of leafs, colours from yellow to green
To even violet with pink.
Black water of ancient lake on evening
Or at midnight, while neither Moon, nor Stars.
And when the day begins
You can see a trace of a plane in baby-blue open sky.
And butterflies, like magical words
Which became visible for our eyes, are sitting
On your shoulders and hair.
Here is our house, our dear home.
With marble columns and huge windows,
And a fountain, and a garden around it.
Chocolate hearts are in the vase,
And little hands are taking one of them.
And no need to explain that it’s happiness.
I’m silent. I can’t talk.
I just want you, my friend, my Love, here,
There, everywhere with me.
And your silence is about the same.
Let’s kiss each other, I can’t talk.
Thank you, Great Artist of Eternity.
AVICENNA WAS SO WISE
Avicenna was so wise
He had given good advice:
Boy, you feel again in love.
Take hot shower and a bath.
Stay in water till you tough,
It will treat you well enough.
Take a dog and put on scarf,
Put on boots, go to the park.
Go somewhere for a walk.
Maybe three miles, maybe four.
Even twenty, best of all.
When you feel again in love
And you feel it’s real love.
Go to work and work like horse,
If you feel that you get worse.
Then back home and boiling bath.
It will treat you well enough.
Boiling milk and butterbrot.
Make the water very hot!
Switch on advanced Stereo,
Volume’s growing more and more.
Put a pillow on your head,
Bite your elbow, pinch your hand.
Take your notebook, mail your friend.
Or play tennis at the end.
Avicenna was so wise,
He had given good advice:
Girl, you feel again in love.
Take hot shower and a bath.
Eat some medicine, put on scarf,
It will treat you well-enough.
Put on wool socks, drink some tea,
Brush your hair, try to sleep.
Turn on music, hug your cat.
Take your notebook, surf in Net.
When you feel again in love,
And you feel it’s real love.
Go for shopping to a mall
Doesn’t matter, not at all.
Sixty hours working week,
Choose some countries for a trip.
Boiling milk, no butterbrot.
Take a bath much more than hot.
Round scarf about your head,
Try new perfumes, while you’re wet.
Avicenna was so wise,
There is more than one advice:
Second is for boy and girl
When hot bathing doesn’t go.
Kisses, touches and making love
In a bath or even out.
Fact – the real time has come.
Love each other, both you one!
LOVE COULD BE A FLIGHT
Do you think our Love is fight?
I say it was rigmarole.
Tell yourself “Adieu aux armes”
Don’t play such a role.
Maybe you were vexed, annoyed.
You had got a headache.
Stop your jumps, I’m not a toy.
Don’t make a mistake.
Love could be a fight
Under blankets, through all night.
Kindling our feelings,
It’s a kind of healing.
Love could be a battle –
Noble, mental, flattered.
Where we can contest
Prize of wit and zest.
Love could be an engine,
Shield from any danger.
Best way to uncork
Tempered power-stock.
Do you think our Love is fight?
Maybe I agree with you.
Better say that Love is Flight,
We are airplane crew!
EX-WEEK
Why do I meet my ex- ?
Ex-people, ex-life text.
To see that life just goes
And where? Just God knows.
To see that it was fake,
Just young age sweet mistake.
To see, that I have changed
And I’ve got better range.
Why do I meet my ex-?
Ex- Love, but not a Rex.
To feel that past is closed
For always, draw a cross.
To feel that we are friends,
But in a different lands.
To feel that we can live
For different belief.
Why do I meet my ex-?
Ex-people, ex- life text.
Occasion? Maybe not.
I should to stand a Dot.
No reasons to go on.
Old strings are torn off, gone.
That chord was good, but now
I’ve got the better one.
Why do I meet my ex-?
To find what will be next.
It was complete ex-week.
Stop of relationship.
03/02/2001
It was a birthday party
At February night.
And I was so exited
To use my birthday right.
I saw him not a first time,
I guess that maybe fifth.
It was hard kind of life-style:
To want, to wait, to need.
He was unreally handsome
And cute, and even smart.
And he was there, dancing
A little bit apart.
He had a smile like sun-rise,
Like my smile. Anyway
Twin-smile, twin-charm, twin look-size,
Sun rises twice a day.
It used to be a madness,
Affection and explode.
But on the other – senseless
Unreal love and load.
I was so glad to see him,
I thought “What would I do?”
He didn’t drink a champagne.
“You look so nice” – “You too”.
And not to be continued.
No wind, no sea, no boat.
Unreal useless feelings
Behind the shuted door.
It was my birthday party
Two years back, ago.
And I was so exited
To see him on dance-floor.
His face was my obsession,
And even air he breathed.
My absolute reflection.
But now I’ve reach an ease.
YOURS
1.
Your woman is your prayer
Which you could read by heart.
Her days tie to your days.
Her blood runs in your heart.
Kiss her; she’s not a game,
She is your worldwide fame.
Kiss her, she’s not a mist.
She is great music piece.
Your woman is your Sky –
So deep, so free, so high.
Your sky, where you could fly.
Your ocean, field of rye.
Love isn’t Steeplechase.
Love lightens, moves and waves.
2.
Your man is daily prayer,
Which you could read by heart.
His days tie to your days,
His blood runs in your heart.
Kiss him, he’s not a mist.
He is your writing list.
Your man is solid land,
So wide to understand.
Your land where you could stand,
Your realm, Demesne, your Tend.
Love isn’t Steeplechase.
Love lightens, moves and waves.
PICNIC BAG
We’ve got long list for picnic-bag.
Tomorrow we will rest till dark.
But now, keep strained, we have to pack
Our week-end picnic bag.
We need a pail for shashlyki,
Kefir, black pepper, onions.
Some pork, some beef, some wine and tea,
And red hot chili storming cans.
For those who drink no alcohol
We’ve got a nectar stock.
And huge stock-pile of “Cherub’s goal”
For those who don’t like grog.
We need few standard happy-meals
For our vegetarians.
And those, who fond of steering-wheels
Will choose another variants.
Count baskets with unreckoned fruits,
Cheese sealed up in a box.
And Chinese, Thailand, Indian food,
And barrel “Crazy fox”.
Do not forget some Russian hits
Like pancakes, vodka, caviar.
And salads, like New-Year greets,
And fish from Scandinavia.
Ambrosia, flowers, berry-tarts,
And cookies, made of grass.
Few sculptures, grilles, another staffs,
Utensils, sitting-pads.
Okay, it’s final, pickup’s end,
And overload of trunk.
We need a train for PICNIC-BAND
And tug-boat is a TANK.
GOING OVER TO THE ONLY ONE
1.
Occasionally crossed
By chance and magic cause.
At first sight “O, mein Gott”
“It’s him” – the second thought.
Fair hair, such a face.
Neat, posture’s full of grace.
His features, skin is ivory.
Relief and lines so wonderful.
My unexpected dear,
My dream became so real.
Nobility and mind,
So witty and refined.
I haven’t seen for ages
The same A MAN WHITE ANGEL.
I see myself in yours,
My dear-near cause.
2.
Occasionally crossed
By chance and magic cause.
At first sight “O, mein Gott”.
“She came” –the second thought.
I can’t describe her face,
Her motions, full of grace.
Her features west and east,
Her fingers, lashes, lips.
My unexpected Venus
With mind and soul of genius.
Occasionally crossed
By god chance, yes, of course.
I haven’t seen for ages
Such beauty of an ANGEL.
I see myself in yours,
My dear- near cause.
3.
It’s seems to me I’ve found something new.
It’s seems to me I’ve found only you.
4.
For me our meet was like a Golden-Gate.
You are the only one for me, my deep-eyed fate.
GET TOGETHER
Get together, shining Fun,
Better two than one.
We leave city, go to see
Be or not to be?
We will choose to be, of course,
`Cos to not to be is worse.
We will meet on a weekend
In September pine lake land.
We will make huge autumn bunch
We will have exotic lunch.
You will kiss my naked knees
And will tell “Forgive me, please”.
I’ll forgive you, after all,
Better peaceful time, not war.
When I stay with you, it’s Sun.
When I go with you, it’s Sun.
When I eat with you, it’s Sun,
When I care of you, it’s Sun.
No another one.
YOU’D BETTER FLY
Look up, see the sky.
Ocean is above us.
You can swim and fly
In the air and clouds.
Just imagine, please,
Laying on your back:
Sky is underneath.
Open eyes, look up!
Sky is underneath,
You are over it.
Do you feel a wind?
Use it now to lift.
Bring your soul so high,
Over endless sky.
Just imagine, please,
You don’t lay, but fly.
Into air-wave sea,
Wings are soul and eyes.
Look up to the sky
And just change your ground.
Sky is down now.
Now you’re looking down.
You don’t move, but sky.
Change your point of view.
Sky don’t move, you fly!
Clouds don’t sail, but you!
Bring your soul so high,
Over endless sky.
Do you hear splashes?
Water talks to bank.
Slight glanced sunny-flashes
Kiss pine wood and sand.
Sun-gods kissing me,
I return them kiss.
Sky like blue-eyes Sea –
Just imagine, please!
GULF OF FINLAND
You’ve made me cry, Gulf of Finland!
You’ve made me forget about something,
Actually the riven heart.
Riven heart died, but I was granted the new one:
It’s you, Gulf of Finland.
My gratitude to God and Mother- Nature, Life and Heaven.
The Sun was in a midst of the Sky.
The Water was like melting platinum.
And shades were Italian Renaissance of Leonardo da Vinci.
You’ve made me live, Gulf of Finland.
You and everything above and around you
Is the Window to Eternity.
And Eternity has got divine warm blue colour,
As like as thin segment of clean sky
Between smoke-violet evening clouds.
And light is a Wizard Fire,
And I was given a Wizard Fire,
Which revitalized my world.
When I come to you, I know that there’s no board,
Because I hear your voice, GULF OF FINLAND!
ANSWER
You, little baby Zeus!
I’ve got two pretty news.
You’re fond of silly tricks,
Forget it, if you please.
Because for me it’s clear:
You little boy, my dear.
I see, you wanna fuse
To catch a great amuse.
You stare what would be…
Oh, you `re in love with me.
My inside rainbow, dew!
I’ve got good news for you.
You’re not a baby Zeus,
You are my handsome Muse.
Oh, Muse became a Man!
Sensation, bomb and fun.
Okay, my mister Muse.
I’ve caught a great amuse.
I know what gonna be:
You fall in love with me.
Apollo, is that you?
You’ve brought me something new.
Your left is baby Zeus,
Your right is handsome Muse.
My flower red and blue,
My private Happy Clue.
Red herrings are amuse,
Be careful with your fuse!
But keep your place and see:
You love me, let it be.
FIRE IN MARIINSKY THEATER
There was a fire in a theater
And sceneries burnt down.
Unhappy story died with rattle
And ghosts had flown out.
No sceneries it means no play,
No sceneries it means no act.
Ex-everybody went away,
They hang out big white flag.
So, I don’t care, where do they go,
Where do they want to live.
I don’t want see them any more,
They were my round grief.
So farewell, don’t return to me.
Forget me, you are old!
Old memories, old facts, old meet.
No more than distant moan.
I was in love with someone’s face,
With someone’s voice and hair.
I don’t remember, don’t amaze…
Because now I DON`T CARE.
IMPROMPTU
- My fingers need your skin.
- My fingers need your skin.
- You’re bow, I’m violin.
-
- I’m violin, you’re bow.
- We know our stars to follow.
- We’re going side by side,
- Twelve sea-shells on sea side.
- My fingers want your skin.
- My fingers want your skin.
- My special smile for you.
- My special words to you.
- Our jewels of the Crown,
- Our magic Sea and Ground.
- My fingers love your skin.
- My fingers love your skin.
- You best I’ve ever seen.
- Love’s Great and Privy Seal.
WATERFALL OF JOY – MY BRILLIANCE
You are unforgettable, beautiful creation of Nature,
Dream Alive, revealing human soul.
Your smile grows into red roses in my heart
And let lightsome balls of fire fly around me.
Your gate is soundless and light,
Nobody could repeat it or learn it. It’s yours.
I feel Waterfall of Joy when you walk toward me.
Warmth, happiness and indescribable dawn
Inside my mind, in my blood.
It runs from top of mine, from Heaven to finger-tips.
You are My Brilliance.
You are me reason to be here, on Earth.
Tu es mon motif de séjour sur le Globe.
NEW LOVE
How did I know I was in love again?
How did I know my heart in love with you?
Old days, those hours were in there wane.
When did I know that I’ve got something new.
And maybe You don’t know the answer too.
But our eyes were curious, wide- open.
And maybe nothing’s change in little room,
But since we met the Time has changed and autumn.
ANTHEM
Be kind; keep courage of your own in any trouble.
We recognized by our own light.
Things change or not, and maybe they are double.
There are some words from us, and Gods of height.
We can’t retell the story or remake it.
Life is a concert, maybe show or game,
Which we perform and play for years daily.
We could not judge, or hate, we could not blame.
Count what you left or quit yourself in past time.
Not what you’ve lost or didn’t understand.
We took our places in a car, it start time.
We know our destination, our Realm.
We’ve got our luggage, pay-cards, driver’s license.
We speak all languages and always do our best.
And simple things are simple. It’s A MIGHTNESS.
It’s time to be, it’s our daily fest.
WHOLE WORLD IS OUR DECK
My thin and slender neck,
Frail shoulders and my hair.
You are giving me a Dare.
I’m taking, but object.
But how could you object
That it’s a fate affaire.
You’d better kiss my hair.
You’d better kiss my neck.
Set sail, go to a Deck.
The name of ship is rare.
It’s yours, but be aware –
My eyes are diamonds black.
And here is our map,
Our compass, our dare!
Our aim and love so fair,
We go up step by step.
No matter white or black.
We’ve got a golden arrow.
And we will live forever –
Whole world is our Deck.
PRINCESS AND PRINCE
Tomorrow October begins,
We are little Princess and Prince.
We walk under Sun, under Moon,
We will be Their Majesties soon.
And now is September last day,
Today it will vapour away.
Come on, let us see it again,
That place where we found Golden Grain.
High columns of pines, crystal sky…
At midnight September will die.
Let’s listen to Hendel and Bach,
The language of space, soul and art.
Sibelius gives us his Swan.
At midnight September will gone.
Tomorrow October begins.
And Princess is kissing her Prince.
They will be their Majesties soon,
They walk under Sun, under Moon.
You see, it’s your eyes, it’s your smile.
Forget all your thoughts for a while.
You see golden fishes in a depth?
The lace of tree branches on your left.
You feel, we are breathing so light.
I am near you, on your right.
All treasures around us to find,
The wall of pine wood is behind.
The surface of water to glide –
It’s Absolute, our life guide.
Tomorrow October begins,
We are golden Princess and Prince.
We will be Their Majesties soon.
Possess our Youth, Sun and Moon.
LITTLE BOY IN TRAIN, 11:57
We didn’t see each other
For years, days and months.
We didn’t know each other
And Love had said “No funds.
Stop fire, don’t desire”.
And put my heart on shelf.
That man was my admire,
That man was my extent.
Today I saw a baby,
The little boy in train.
I was mistaken maybe,
But boy looked like that man.
The boy was reading paper
And talking to his mom.
His tender face has waken
Repeat of what was gone.
I saw again this profile –
So clean-cut, delicate.
I felt myself like dolphin,
My body lost its weight.
So tender boy, so cheerful.
You are four years old.
Look like somebody’s childhood –
So natural, touching so!
I feel so good and happy,
Because you look like him.
So gentle little baby,
Reminder of my dream.
Mom answers all your questions
And turns to me at once:
Is there a perfection?
All words in happy glance.
Boy looks like my acquaintance
Familiar to me.
He was like golden entrance
To something what would be.
And I was smiling, laughing,
I felt my heart and joy.
It was return of something.
Oh, thank you, little boy.
DI-DA-DA
Di-da-da, di-da-da.
Put aside your big cigar!
Listen, love is not so far,
La musique et des beaux arts,
Fleur de lys et foie gras
Sur le pont d`Avignon
Carafe d`eau et Cote du Rhône.
Truth or joke, but words were real.
Why we didn’t clench that deal?
Where are we? Yes, so we are.
For another sequent start.
Da-da-dil, da-da-dil.
You rotate my inside wheel.
Da-da-dil, da-da-dil,
What does real Vita feel?
What remember, what forget?
Rosebud roseate rose leaf red.
Flowers, flowers, name and smell.
Heavens up and down is hell.
Who are black and who are white?
Who are left and who are right?
Smiles and coloures, blushing cheeks.
“Merry Christmas”, “Trick or treat”.
Da da di, da-da-di.
Something best is close to me.
You are best, you are with me.
We are fine to love, to be
What a company!
Marble stairs, grades, degree,
Arches and puzzles, da-da-di.
Shoury-Moury, two white doves!
Money, coffee, tea and love.
Arlekino jokes and hits –
Leisure after working weeks
La cucina italiana –
Con piacere, si, andiamo!
Starving knowledge, life exam.
Stage and studio, work and fun.
Da-da-di, da-da-di!
Sambo-mambo, somebody!
I love some - bo, some- bo –dy!
TENDER MOMENTS
Remember for always all tender moments,
All tender moments of your private life.
If it is a smiling face so nice,
If it is somebody’s smiling eyes.
If it is somebody’s windows and car,
If it is somebody’s arms and scar.
If it is so close to you here and now,
If it is not, because you are far.
Inspite of conditions, departures, arrives,
Inspite of all matters, people and times,
Remember for always all tender moments,
All tender moments of your private life.
Remember for always somebody’s gait!
Remember your body loosing its weight!
Remember somebody’s breath and state,
First meet and appearance, when you didn’t wait.
Remember it always, because these are moments,
So valuable tender moments of life.
If it is your joy like a brilliant bird,
If it is a colour of your top and skirt.
If these are occasional meets so short,
If it is a colour of someone’s T-shirt.
If these are pockets on somebody’s pants,
If it is a ground-floor, where he loves to dance.
If it is somebody’s name so sweet
Which you are singing each minute like hit.
If it is somebody’s image and speech
And telephone numbers prepared to reach.
If it is a smile of your face and your soul.
If it is sky skiing or rolling in hall.
If it is a beauty and inside explode –
Creation of Galaxy, New real World.
And if there are tears filling your eyes…
And if it is smile, like Sun rises twice.
Remember for always all tender moments,
All unforgettable moments of life.
ST.PETE
St. Pete is an inkpot,
When evening comes.
Ink – water, ink – rivers,
Ink – channels and banks.
I saw different faces
And cities, and lands.
And mountains, someday
They’ll turn into sands.
But even in journey
I couldn’t forget:
In front of my eyes
There was my own land.
I thought every minute about the same.
I love it, and I want express it or say.
My eyes were my voice.
There were small-talks and smiles.
I felt that my heart
Turns to Sun to arise.
My city is pearl,
When morning comes.
Pearl water, pearl – rivers,
Pearl channels and banks.
My city is music,
My city is home.
No matter the day, dusk,
The night or the dawn.
2003
I know
Never say never, but NEVER.
I’ll never wish go to the end.
I don’t want to know, what is there,
Beyond, what we can’t understand.
I’ll never decide to be lonely.
I’ll never take what I don’t want.
Because I feel better and stronger.
Because now I am what I want.
I know, what is going on always –
Strong will, happy life and my youth.
Forever and always, and ALWAYS –
My verses, my songs and my tunes.
2003
To guess
Please, you must know, it’s very hard to say…
So, therefore, I won’t say simple words.
I know, you’ll understand, and you can guess
What for our lifelines now again are crossed.
I saw than and I knew my love was found.
First seconds were a miracle, time stopped.
I knew that I was standing on the ground,
But in my mind I found myself on top.
I thought about you each minute of a day,
I looked at World as if your eyes were my eyes.
I couldn’t live not meeting you somewhere.
And I’ve been meeting you for seven, maybe eight times.
Since we had met each other on a square,
Since we’ve been crossing to our general surprise.
Since I’ve been thinking of your smile and silky hair.
Since started looking at the World like… paradise.
Yes, you must know, you must accept and guess.
That there are no another ways for that one.
I don’t know, do you know the loneliness?
Let’s be together, cause our Love is found.
Let’s share all our minutes, days and hours.
Let’s share feelings, thoughts and points of view.
Let’s share places on this Earth, and sounds
Of soul music, telling “I love you”.
2003
Le mouvement
O, mon ami.
Le fin – tant pis.
Paris, la mer,
Gala, Dali.
Le ciel, tel bleu,
C’est tout, mon feu.
Avec le voile
Quitter ton bal.
2007
Melting-pot
Today is warm November day
And tender winds blow.
I know, it’s melting-pot,
I really want it now.
Today is warm November day
And tender winds blow.
It’s melting-pot for happiness in Love.
My integrated life, my aim, my sorrow.
It’s for my happiness, my happiness in all.
November dies, December is tomorrow,
And tender winds blow, melting-pot with white ice.
2003
My mobile is waiting for
Dial my numbers,
It’s key to all ours.
Don’t you know therefore –
My mobile’s awaiting for.
Dialogue, good song,
Talks all night long.
Talks of a silence,
Digital dials.
Keyboards are bodies,
Asking “QUO VADIS?”
Using a Latin,
Dressing for party.
It’s like a map song,
Accents on what’s on,
Dial my numbers.
It’s our karma’s.
Ideal eternal connection
Of Harmony, Peace and Perfection.
2003
Flight over the world and civilization
I flew above the planet, saw it all.
Through cloudy rivers, cloudy empty sound.
Along, inside the cloudy streams and floods.
Between two banks of liquid boiling clouds.
And waves of smashing water - in a rage -
To mountains and rocks of Heavens boiling.
I drunk its crystal rivers, night and days.
I flew above the planet, saw its nothing.
Grand Canyon with huge fingers ,walls and eyes.
The Desert, yellow bodies- Dunes and silence.
The Desert – sandy veil and sandy gas.
Thin drawings of a wind, Your Desert Highness.
The trace of snakes.
Another highest measure.
Most scaring speed,
When colors mix to one.
Away from fields of flowers,
To the pleasure
To see and feel
Hot air, through tongues of Sun.
Between wind’s boiling tongues,
Through streams of heat.
I’m over and away. - the Planet’s field. -
Like aquarelle. Like box of marvel- colors…
Like micro- scheme of Future systems bridge.
Moon like dead body, leaning to the ground,
And darkness is erasing blue and green.
And time, absorbing époques and relations.
And soundless freedom, when I’m going up.
The planet’s underneath, civilization.
The cosmos. White blue stardust.
White blue dust.
Cold liquid sapphire of nighttime through my fingers.
No personification. Spilled blue ink.
Then morning comes, arising light bilingual.
The personification. Sunrays lead.
I flew above the planet, saw it all.
I flew above the planet, it goes on.
2003
December
Take it serious or easy,
Always free and always busy.
Contrasts very good in book page,
But engagements rearrange.
Yes, I really want to live.
I deserve it. Christmas Eve.
Blood from nose is not so healthy.
Happy family and wealthy.
That’s what people really need.
All philosophy to read.
Speak to cosmos like old Bach –
In a snow field, Moon and Heart.
O, La Luna. O, che bella.
Come bianca Sinderella.
We’re in Universe at night.
In a cosmos, in a height.
We could see all stars, which fall.
We may ask for all, for all.
2003
Christmas chant
I was alone – sad weeping song –
Walking along river so strong.
River Neva, one autumn evening,
Island and beach, fortress bells ringing,
Counting quarters,
Peter-Paul fortress.
I was so sad, I felt so bad.
Lonely and cold,
But I haven’t told.
Walking along river so strong,
Listening to water and its evening song.
Looking at mother and her little child.
Looking at bushes and lilac around.
Looking at city and cold beach behind.
Looking at image of Jesus, my find.
Like little card from his visiting box.
Image of Christ, from the wave, through the wall.
Wall of a distance from here to there.
Wall which is ever… and now is nowhere.
Image, which came to my hands from the wave.
And, when I took it, I felt I was saved.
Beautiful image, which swung in light waves.
Entered the river – I didn’t wet legs.
Here in my palms, with few drops on the face.
It’s number ninety, and now it is blessed.
Thank You, my God, my Jesus Christ.
Christmas so merry, and smile in your eyes.
Thank you for midnight, and thank you for day.
Thank you for words, which I’m going to say.
2003
English lyrical
Seven, seventy, my own – English emerald lawn!
English landscape, trees and hills,
And Cathedral steeples.
Lines and lightest net or lace,
Keep eyes open, breath away.
And I hear my steps and yours,
On those stones of passed-time swirls.
Wind is echo from a bay,
Brings the scent of ancient day.
When High Lady and her Knight,
In the dead of English night,
Sent their mail-birds with their passwords.
Written down in few notes.
Let my curly hair down.
Try my voice and hear its sound.
Emerald lawn, I catch your smile.
Now You catch Me, catch Me now.
2003
Shadows of a past
Shadows of a past are thinnest pictures and reflections in my eyes.
… are sounds of those voices, wine and leisure in surround of my friends.
When we were eighteen, seventeen and twenty one years old.
Youth, made out of a gold, a different colored gold.
I hear someone’s call to come to square,
Where palaces and gods, and angel live and live.
The rolling, it was long ago, far, there.
Where we were sitting, talking - walking sleeve.
Those ballet boys, and airplanes over sea.
The music has been hiding in my ears.
And Scotland, Wales and England; German hills.
And France, and Finland. I am European.
The shadow of a past is thinnest picture.
The shadow of a past is smiling teacher.
2003
FISHING
Uncle told about something peaceful.
“Morning, river, friends play cards and chess”.
Why we were so stupid to believe him!
Fishing is much more than common rest.
Uncle was a captain, we were sailors.
Noone will forget that summer day,
When w got a boat, we felt a terror,
Cause the name was “Independent pale”.
- “What’s the time? “– so cheerful uncle’s question.
- “Half past five.”– replied a skeptic voice.
- “Oh, I wouldn’t like to make suggestions…
Seems to me, you dreaming of return?”
- “No-no-no, we are quite well, let’s start it.”
And we started fight to stormy stream.
- “Hard to starboard, Heavens, hard to starboard!”-
Was our captain’s cantus firmus theme.
Someone plunged his fingers into water,
Someone’s hope for bathing almost died.
Someone’s eyes increased to size of saucers –
He forgot his “happy meal” stockpile.
Then we landed to a little island.
Nice area of a sand and trees.
Uncle said: “let’s start on fish men fire!”
And we put aside our bread and cheese.
Fire was all right, but we were better.
Our faces were deep red and black.
Someone told: “Complete Robinzonada.”
Someone was afraid of people’s health.
After, with Ray-Bans on stiff cold noses,
In wet Timberlands and very wet Chanel,
Standing to a knee in icy water,
We took efforts to stretch out a net.
“I’m postgraduate of Oxford.”- said one tired.
“I play piano, sing, I can not freeze”.
And all voices mixed to shameful quire,
Climax was “It’s crime against our kids!”
Otherwise, or although, or another,
But one fish was really out of head.
Wild and free in river, all about,
Somehow – crazy fish in our net.
“Fish is crazy, it’s insane, don’t eat it.
We must care of our brains and minds.”
But the second thought was “Fish defeated!”,
“It was river’s charity to us.”
So, the last act passed with pomp and fireworks.
Soup, entree, desert et coffee- break.
Our flag made out of uncle’s green shorts,
Everybody say that FISHING’s Great!
2003
Ties and eyes
Green to green,
Blue to blue.
Ties and eyes, and their mobiles
Show the taste of perfect guys.
Once I saw so purple tie,
Baseball cap and apple pie.
Eyes were really… it was look.
There I felt myself on hook.
Hook of future, present, past.
Let’s discuss, and not so fast.
I don’t know, what can be seen
In my eyes, where he will sink.
Very interesting to see
Purple tie in blackeyes sea.
And somebody’s eyes were blue.
What about my point of view?
Blue is blue, and green is green.
And advantage’s very thin.
Double Windsor, diamond pin
Matchs completely everything.
So, I’ll hear, how they speak,
What they do this month, this week.
Strong desires, strength and will.
How about what we feel?
2003
MY STARDOM
The sense of life is stardom.
The highest images and thoughts
Of those, who lived before, in distant marvel-époques,
Which now are gone, away, erased by wing of time.
The sense of life is stardom, it’s my life.
The highest modes and knowledge of those days,
Where my imagination can’t to get to.
The stone of life to touch it and to get
Eternal life, immortal youth and power.
The stardom is the power of your love.
I love you, and I feel the strength inside.
It elevates me up, like Jesus Christ on third day after end.
Now my Ascending.
I love you, and my love like energy of Suns,
Of winds and water. All forces of the Nature,
Seizing me, and overwhelm me, fill me with their might.
Love makes me bigger, than another people, biggest, most.
I feel myself like golden mine, strong river.
I feel, my person penetrates to power,
The highest power, which exist in World.
It moves me, looks at you from me.
It’s talking; it’s stardom of a Height.
Where I have been for several times,
While waiting for your love.
There’s emptiness, no sounds, only light.
Pure freedom, neither walls, nor outlines.
There’s no a firm material up there,
Just gas compound of a Power, Sun and Beauty.
The combination of the highest sense of Life.
The stardom is a Nuclear Explode.
Sometimes I feel myself like nuclears.
Like little golden grains,
in front of Space and Universe, Huge World.
And, simultaneously, I feel myself like God…
And all creation means the Beauty.
The beauty of a planet, more than all.
2003
Divan – sleeping
What a picture! Living room,
Which designed as comp game Doom.
Big divan, white fur on it.
And mob scene on rest. They sleep.
Now I count naked legs,
Shoes and glasses, how much there?
All mobiles are on the floor.
Windows (French) were used as door.
Their visit- cards in bath
With wax candles, someone’s pass.
My conjectures move to hall –
Yesterday we played paint- ball.
Ah, of course, we used to win.
Princess Royal now is Queen.
And tomorrow, Thank You, God.
Week- end, two days week- end start!
2003
WHERE DO OUR WINDS BLOW?
Each motion in this World has destination.
Direction, sense, its shape, its mind, its kind.
Each has drawbacks: has joy and indignation.
And everything is needed, live and die.
And, maybe Nature, Royal Mother Nature
Will show the way, where someone has to go.
Will show herself to every child- creature
By WINDS, by different winds. Where do our winds blow?
I must to switch on phone, I have to open door.
I must remember everything or nothing.
Not thinking over, but foresee, foreshow and more.
Not difficult for me, where do our winds blow?
The life, which trains us how to be ourselves.
And Love, which gives us more than life, we know.
And Mother- Nature, set her airlines, sails.
Strong winds are blowing. Where do our winds blow?
Now I say “our, we, to us, for us”.
What do I mean, when write down all these “ours”?
I mean, I hope, I’m sure, I want relax.
Deserve my happy years, lucky hours.
December 22, 2003
My White Japanese Curtain
March… Third of March, two thousands four…
White cover for my window, no cover for my door.
White Japanese, like velvet silk, it’s curtain.
White Japanese rideaux, and no one dirt it.
Enlightened room, enlightened soul, enlightened weather.
So fair sky, so fair morn, white fair desert.
I’d really wanna touch white shield of my protection
By brush and color, just to paint on it - reflection.
My Japanese three meters long protection.
White Japanese. No dots, no words, no question.
2004
YOU(the dialogue)
SHE:
My only one, you are like mountains and plateaus of Grand Canyon.
Like cloudy rivers or Niagara waterfall.
You make me feel and you are only my song.
One of the best creatures in the World.
I wonder, ‘cause you are so perfect man.
As well as diamonds or sky ideal perfection.
The harmony, and second element…
You are like grand chef- d’oeuvre de Mother- Nature.
HE:
There’s no comparisons, you make me feel the same.
I look at you as well as at the ocean.
And feelings are so permanent and plain.
I think of you, it’s like a soul motion.
I found you, when I loose the sense of life.
I found you, and I got again forever.
You are my life, you are my love, my wife.
Please, love me, and don’t go away, no, never.
2003
January 27, Tuesday
Looking to the North
Through window, not my house.
I thought I won jack- pot.
I won your eyes and mouth.
Our legs like roots of trees.
Our hands embrace two bodies.
Tres bon matematique.
We were Greek God and Goddess.
He was so handsome lad,
He treated me like flower.
“A beauty in my bed.” -
He said to me that hour.
2004
I’m painting my body and soul
I’m painting my body with beautiful names
Of people I love, ancient goddess’s names.
I’m painting my body with my own name,
I know it is most, it is first, it is main.
I’m painting my body,
I’m painting my skin.
All flowers and honey,
The velvet and silk.
And somebody wants me for always to him.
And somebody gorgeous had seen me in dream.
Vivaldi’ s four seasons and harmonic mood.
High spiritual reasons, white scar over wound.
I’m painting my body, I’m painting my soul.
Blue blood, soul was bloody.
But I saved my soul.
And my painted body now looks like a list.
And seal on my body is SOMEBODY’ s kiss.
I’m painting my body/soul
With my own name.
And somebody’s name too.
These two will remain.
2003
To Eva
Thank you. You were fond of apple- trees,
Which were forbidden, cautions from Archangels.
You started history of mankind, war and piece –
For those, who read the Bible, know their Angels.
You know, you were so young, how old were you?
So simple way to differ lie and true –
To eat one apple, simply eat an apple.
Today I’m twenty two, I’m giving them a favor.
And apple juice, and vitamins, and savor.
I eat an apple, and I don’t believe this version.
The taste of knowledge… Issue’s controversial.
I’ve got a hope, that everything in life
Have taste of fruits, I know what are temptations.
Despite of all, mom Eva was audacious.
Now boys and girls have got their lovely fashions.
So, Thank you, mama Eva, very much.
But Paradise for apple? That’s too much.
2003
Visage nouveau
Visage nouveau,
Avec la pomme.
Dans restaurant,
A table carre ou rond.
Les yeaux nouveaux
sont verts – amandes.
Ils sont dignee la pomme.
Visage nouveau
Avec la pomme,
Ditez votre prenom,
Votre nom est “Comme”.
Visage nouveau
Avec la pomme,
D’ou vienez vous.
Vous etez tres bon.
Du Angletter
Ou du Russie?
Vous etez de la?
Peut – etre d’ici?
Visage nouveau
Avec la pomme.
A table carre et rond.
2003
Grand Hotels
The space of grand Hotels is something greatest.
Like travel on a cloud in fancy lands.
It’s something unexplainable, et cetera,
Like being here with you, into your hands.
“Four Seasons”, “Carlton/Ritz”, “Hotel du Cap”.
Old castles, where one fireplace like villa.
And both we know, that we don’t want to stop.
Like chocolate and fruits, and sweet vanilla.
Let’s have a secret fun at night, today.
Let’s put on rolls at midnight, quick and quiet.
Let’s take a Digicam to tape it “not for sale”.
We’re checking corridors in non-aggressive free-style.
And on a morning “les cafes au lit”,
“café au lait”, “ espresso” ou “crèmee”.
I love to be with you, and you with me.
Tres bon idée, le mieux, felicite.
To be together is the same as Grand Hotel.
I love to be with you, to see you happy.
And do you know, what is to pay a bell?
But we are rich, have got a lot of money.
We sign our paychecks, say good bye to owners,
And kiss a little cat, which lives in hall.
Our luggage’s outdoor, but we’ll return there.
And now the destination is – at home.
2003
Quatre seasons
Quatre seasons, notre seasons.
La douceur dans le Monde.
C’est je suis en Septembre, Octobre, Decembre.
Je suis bien dans ma peau.
Je t’embrasse, tes cheveaux.
C’est la bague de Cartier.
C’est je suis en Janvier, Fevrier et Juillet.
Tu es bien dans ta peau.
Tu m’embrasse, mes cheveaux.
C’est un mot au cadran.
Mars, Avril va tres bien.
Les seasons de l’Amour.
Notre seasons – nuit et jours.
La douceur est en tout.
C’est Juin, Mai et l’Aout.
La douceur et l’amour
Va tres bien. Pout toujour.
Les seasons, pour toujour.
Va tres bien – temps de nous.
Va tres bien, montre de nous.
Notre douceur est en tout.
2003
Author’s afterword
Dear readers,
I am glad to meet to you here again, on pages of this book. “Pineland” is not only a book, this is the plain description in poems, real life of definite person – the girl of immense beauty and kindness of soul, very young and very interesting on her way to happiness. She has love, she has got talent, she loves this World – its grandeur, its majesty and beauty, its wonderful nature and gifts. Gifts are sky so blue, or white, or red, day, morning, evening or night, sea, ocean, sand, pine-trees on North-West of Russia – the place of woods, hills and lakes, or maybe, simply a northern wind, so cold and fresh, how do you think? It is possible – to open the sense of life, if you simply open the beauty of the World. Whether you live in America or Asia, Africa or East, India or Australia, Russia or France, you will understand this book, because it is written from Nature, for you. You will see, because the World is only One for us, its beauty is its sense, and the sense of its beauty is the sense of our life. Taste of contemplation. Taste of the music of the World. Taste of action. Taste of life.
Thank you for reading my book!
Sincerely yours, with love to you, Vitalia Pak.
October, 2008.