The color was tired br Of variegation, br Calliope’s sad wing br Was lowered, br But like my cactus br At its eighth year, br The words, at night, br Calmly flowered. br br The vein is startled br By the purple pulse, br Ink-colored became br My sadness. br Years ago, I had br Such a feeling – br The feeling so airy br And stainless… br br Sweetly sing br The heavenly virgins, br Pleasant to ear br Are the rows of rhymes. br The sisters from Parnassus br Wave to me br Their curly plaits, br And ring the chimes. br br br *** br The speechless astronomer br Mustn’t aim br His telescope br At the rhymes; br All the words br Do hit the target, br Grief eats out br The heart in no time… br br 22.03.2008.