Monday, January 11, 2016

Aleksey Mozgovoy's Poem No. 58--the First He Ever Published

(the picture above is the same which Mozgovoy himself used as an illustration for this "first" poem of his, which he published on May 30, 2013--two years and one week before his death brought upon him because of his deep, passionate love for Russia/Novorossiya, the truth and human liberation)
The Moon

I’ve never ever seen this Moon,
To me she was—wholly alive.
As if someone came and caught
Her in the first blue morning light

With boundless space encircling
Its approach and her sphere’s line
Below the fishnets of the clouds.
And there she was—the eve of sky.

Till the very last her golden light
Fought to gleam and illuminate,
And she couldn’t understand
Why was she—growing pale?

And the night became a mist,
Thus cloaking her rushed retreat,
And knowing of what separates,
She lied a little in her placid grace.

A day will pass into an evening
As the unrest will be growing quiet
For the new dates under the Moon
Dressed, alive and golden.


Я луну, такой ещё не видел,
Показалась мне она живой.
Словно кто то, вдруг её обидел,
В предрассветной дымке голубой.

А вокруг, бескрайние просторы,
Горизонт рождающий зарю.
Облаков ажурные узоры...
И луна, у неба на краю.

Её свет, в последние минуты,
Золотом стремится догореть.
Не понять луне лишь, почему то,
От чего, должна она бледнеть...

Только ночь, поспешно отступая,
Растворяясь в утренний туман.
Знает, что луну теряя,
Лишь идёт на временный обман.

День пройдёт и сменит его вечер,
Суматоху, сменит тишина.
Под луною, вновь назначат встречи...
В золото, оденется луна....

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