Shamil Peyu. Poems Princess Amex

  is written from the perspective of the soul  code>  pre> 

 



Much power and silence those who drink their wine and their lives leisurely sips, even more - for those who do not make a distinction between the guest and logged about to leave ... On my carpet - black bowl with wine. I sit on a pillow stuffed with camel hair. Next - you're sitting ... Say you - just get in? Or is goodbye? .. 



So I have a lot to say nothing ... to avoid a meeting with so many people ... Pour back into the container and seal as many bowls of wine spilled on ... Anyone who thinks this is a whim - let first learn to look at other people's eyes - just in their own. (Only after that he may appoint a meeting for me, which neither he nor I - will not come! ..) 

  

Man - this is the shadow cast by God. (And What You Can Do with a shadow, is still alive he who rejects it? .. And would know the shadow of one who threw it?! ..) 



About me say that half of the words I pick up in their own dreams, where I find them lying in the dark grass, as if they - the fruits are tired of their own ripeness ... (Those who say this - are not able to distinguish the taste of taste donated kiss kiss , this loan: I pick up in my dreams - all the words! ..) 



"He who prays a long time before a meal - choose a prayer, not food" - I thought and hugged her unknown traveler. My pupils are thickened, and my next thought was: "Not every soul is a body, as well as not at all the body - soul, but as a heated battle warrior does not distinguish between the locked and open the gates - and love is blind eye to the imperfections of the world ! .. »



 



Who saw an angel standing in the branches - see their dream of an angel standing in the branches ... Many people understand it, but few know that seeing the branches on which there are no angels - they see only their dream of branches without the Angels ... So - people - divided - between - a ... (And those who remained, - stood quietly on the substituted branches in the twilight of human Days and Nights of radiance ...) 



As a child - I myself collected seed beads from orange. When I was fifteen winters - my father gave me a necklace of pearls caught in the youngest sea, and I realized that beauty, adorned with the beauty of the other - becomes something third. He who has ears - and has his eyes - I decided on the day, when I was the second hundred winters and took off all the decorations ... this morning - I woke up next to his seven hundredth winter ... During this time I changed my mind all my thoughts and I do not have no ... I'm sitting on the beach, eat an orange, and bone - are strung on a thread ... 



My love is growing as the hair: at night ... My thoughts - stay cool and in the driest months ... I'm obsessed with Sky. And when I get tired of it - become obsessed - Earth! (After all - what's the difference - on whose covers spill the wine of his love?! ..) 



People's lives - resemble circles radiating through the water ... Who threw the first stone? (Whoever he was - his loneliness - no bigger than my! ..) 



They say - I doomed to eternal life ... I know a little about it ... Most of all - it's true ... But I still remember the time when my soul, like the souls of other people - flowed from the body - on the ground and even parched riverbeds were filled with the depth, which is characteristic only of the fear of being buried alive! .. I remember how we were put in a young earth pits grenade and watered their wine, which is slowly gaining in his mouth, turns kissing each other (that future trees are not afraid of death, and eyes tomorrow rain looked not we, and our children) ... Now I'm (like all living too greedily) - grew out of his soul, as grow out of their clothes, and her time grown together with Time Heaven ... I love to walk in the pomegranate groves, Twisting the shadow of his wrists with the shadow of the branches. (So ​​I rehearsed Fear, live forever! ..) 



Feathers do not interfere with the bird fly ... My body does not stop me from loving you ... But I saw happiness: it is like a dark, viscous honey, adhering to the feathers! (And yet - I saw some birds change heaven and I know that my body - does not hurt me to forget you! ..) 



I am learning the art of kissing his days with the same passion with which their whole night! .. (When you wear the silence in the mouth, as are the hole of the fallen tooth - you begin to understand that the day - it's the same night, but only a wayward ...) 



Flying birds - still write letters is in heaven, that there is no one to read ... Just I: writing letters, fast as the sky; but where are those who have become winged read them?! .. 



In this life - I have been presented a few pomegranate, fallen, in his time, at my feet, two or three unlocked doors, chapped fingers of God who put in my mouth like a dark grapes, His Words, body, soul, and the soul-soaked, impregnated by the wind ... When the time comes to go to his last door - I'll put in surprise at the threshold of your body, your soul, your words, dresses and those few ripe pomegranate fruit that fell in his time, to my feet, then - I'll light ...