BY A THREAD (Поэтические переводы)

It wasn’t long since birds were singing
from pages that had just been filled.
There were the phone calls and the cheering
from everywhere – I kept receiving
from every field and every guild…

For long I’ve scribbled no paper
(Enough of ink: the words don’t flow!).
Shall I fly up? Get drunk? Eat pepper?
Nor inspiration, neither temper;
the stomach, stuffed, feels empty, though.

With just one question, lost and lonely,
I’m sneaking up on my own hand:
“Is there really one way only
to write with fire, highly, boldly
while hanging on
by the Fate’s
thread?..

12-14.07, 2010

Свидетельство о публикации № 29052011194306-00218224 на Grafomanam.net

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