Creative Work
The shadow of uncreated creatures
Flickers in sleep,
Like palm fronds
On an enamel wall.
Violet hands
On the enamel wall
Drowsily sketch sounds
In the ringing-resonant silence.
And transparent kiosks,
In the ringing-resonant silence,
Grow like spangles
In the azure moonlight.
A naked moon rises
In the azure moonlight...
Sounds hover drowsily,
Sounds caress me.
The secrets of created creatures
Caress me caressingly
And palm shadows gutter
On an enamel wall.
poem by Valery Yaklovich Bryusov
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
