outland poetry
anthology
诗选
安德列沃兹涅 Xing Ski
Three Hell
Three whales of civilization
Paralysis of the soul:
Totalitarianism,
Horse racing gambling
And slipped to all the people kissing.
Fine translation
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Day
In Riga * I wore white jeans driving.
Mind is eight hundred years old.
On the nations I am in the minority.
I happen on the most sexy.
* Note: for the Latvian capital of Riga.
Fine translation
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Lake
She ran into my single life,
Blow out the candles, as a maid.
How crazy it was wonderful
Recall is really terrible!
I wake up and shouted: "Long live
This is the temperature of passion! "
After drying in a huge storm jeans
Flying butterflies in a leopard.
I jumped into the garden, open the window,
To the hum of razor do not you bother
Curtains whisk to
... ... ... ... ... ... Your bedroom.
Time is approaching in September.
Recall is really terrible,
Free-air, as if the chimney,
Love is the autocratic monarchy.
I hustle and bustle of life without you
There is no meaning.
This feeling has passed,
Like a snake crawling over Garden ...
Unspeakable beauty!
And think about it - a bit scary.
Fine translation
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Chronicle
He went into the garden. Dusk.
Estate in the twilight glow white,
This makes the soul feel uneasy, as if
Not part of the body tan.
In the back of Sidi
Then repair the house has become blurred.
He opened the door with pink.
Groping key laughed.
In the pale door, all becomes bright.
At that time there was a bedroom.
She left the embroidery and
Anything else will I be surprised.
Fine translation
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Golden Bleu
More like grains of sand on the beach!
More like a woman who's pores!
Your appearance as
People argue your cause.
In each pore is a grain of sand.
What time is it? But
All the watches are all waiting for repairs!
Time is also a problem.
How many times we quarrel
Living together with you in days!
How many times we face
Have appeared in golden green spots!
These droplets dry
Like the soul of Mars.
Who promised you what?
Who burned you again?
You barely sleep -
Wake up
You are enveloped in golden blue sky
Ring in the sand.
As caught in the whirlwind column
Ecstasy of fear
You dizzy, shake off from itself a
The beach!
To those who had Jurmala *
No matter what abuses,
Will not get sand
Dust particles into jewelry!
Even in the Jurassic era
In the hands of the Creator
The two had bonded together in the sand -
You, and me.
Do you remember,
In Crete - Mycenaean period
You silently swallow the pain,
With fresh sand
Plastic model of the human body?
Said something?
Through the less serious dark,
The eyes see the scars
Golden green spots?
Feel everything is nonsense.
You again unwittingly
The beach into the platinum
The sky is light blue.
In the fog can not see,
Where are you who you are ... ...
You and I exchanged
... ... ... ... Gold in the thigh.
* Note: Jurmala: Latvia city, located along the Gulf of Riga.
Fine translation
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