Notes of an idealist

Love does not pass, but the pain does, all right
And making a fuss about it would just show pride.
And the tears running down my cheeks at night–
They’re nonsense. You’re by my side.
You’re by my side, and your temple is pressed
Into the pillow, the moles on your back could be
An astronomical star chart, possessed
For a short temporary while  only by me.

Елена Погорелая

Любовь не проходит: проходит боль,
Носиться с которой — спесь.
А слезы, бегущие ночью вдоль
Щеки, — это вздор. Ты здесь.
Ты здесь, ты к подушке виском приник,
И родинки на спине —
Как звездная карта, на краткий миг
Раскрытая только мне…

Tags: best of 2010, Elena Pogorelaya, poetry, Russian

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