Читать книгу The waterfalls of Meiringen. poetry - Zamir Acer - Страница 6

I miss you, dear friend, so painfully and hopelessly, practically nothing know about your real life

except your capabilities

to get fully and profoundly

to all nature, precepts and precursors

which could produced

such illness, attraction and attachment to you. I thinking about you

day by night

but cannot make

a smallest step

toward right direction, toward you and your vicinity, my dear. It’s so hard

day by night

kept my thoughts, my imagination, fantasies

tightly attached to you

and yet stayed so far from you

so secluded and abandoned

by the hopelessness, as if I have been

the old-fashioned stone monument

of soviet leaders, forlorn somewhere and ruined

into some backyard or garret. Yes, love made me get out

from this our world

and from the other too

which might to come after our physical ending – it seems to open the door

into quite new third world

where getting inhabited

my strange love

under the quite different sets of laws, defining time, space, our presentences, our senses of what is close and far

and other parameters. I miss you, dear friend, so painfully and hopelessly, practically know nothing about your real life, submerging deeply

into area of total desolation and uncertainty.