Poetry in English
by Steven Duplij

Kharkov State University, Ukraine
University of Kaiserslautern, Germany


The creeping evening - I am tired of years,
Shift moan-gaze from the wallpaper to the wreath
Of blisses lost. My dream decayed as nucleus
Primordial from futile rows of mine.

There's no events - I carry the temptations
To their grave: my soul - sobs violently and hands - in blood.
I leaf through Night. And her miasmas
Stole into my inside to rot the shame of strivings dead.

Being fatted with success, Naiveness slept,
Breaking prognoses with the memory of wasted days:
The Fly has stiffen on the highest point, laughing
At pseudomeaning of the formers to fall down painful more.


Transparent eyes,
Affected tears
Call to the soul's bottom
Stronger than the Fate.
And nothing more to say -
Metamorphoses burn me
Embroidering the summons
To wash away the Slave.
The obstinacy of Nought,
The distances got blind...
Caressing flowers perished
With foam of the dreams.
I put on leaves of bliss,
I colour lying scaffold
In the primordial trace
To harden like a mad.
Disfiguring Motif
I glue up moan with verses,
Insatiable words.
I grasp with pain of years
For roses strongest wish.
I have been rotten, staying
Alive as Skeleton
Of debts to have been gnawed
And have already gone.

Surmounting the Night
I come to open space,
To set for them the Candle
Adhered to the hand.
The Icon. They: my son
And daughter - stolen
By way of life,
Some trees...
And Light...


I thought in vain -
The time is mine - no hurry.
A foolish dream -
My volume's full of life.
I'm getting mute
Embracing handful pages last
Unread and having mark:
"To afterwards".
All wasteful surges
Lot will overtake,
That is expounded
In alien volume-walls,
Which're rotten
With oblivion of Inside
Rewarping lying dreams' refrain.
I will approach Him
And smile from pain, succumbing,
j Expecting final words
In brutish feast of the ideas empty
And poisoned gods...


Crying. I stand by the window -
Everywhere there is that cruel silence of mine.
Cri de coeur melts into the night,
Extorting my daughter-hope.

Time revenges for my lying role -
I know it in my heart, but how to burn my failures?

The phone has been done to death -
With my dearest I've become a widower.

Do not beat me with the past, I'm kissing the ground.
What on earth shall I do? Get cool for good?

The gibberish glides to the depths of my soul.
How not to waste? - Write to write yourself out....


Doom is covered with the snow of idylls -
Whether to save my Light
Or to clothe up
My latest and inner worries
In the mud of the etceteras?
Fylfot of dreams
Unspoken and unuttered,
Caresses -
Poisoned by the mind.
In gibberish....


Do hate your Fate
For losing door
Into disgrace
j To wish no more.

Do lay on grave
Of lying smile
Without stay
To close survival.

Do try to fight
With inner sins,
Forgetting light
From wrong way things.

Do feel hot steel
Of coming guns
Perverting bill
By stolen runs.

Do make your brain
Be free from null,
Do sit in train
Of yelling Rule.

Forgive me reef
Of wasting goals -
My last belief
Became a role.


Me not to strive to open file of new relations -
Wall white: you, Loneliness, screen's points - empty imitations.

They say the same, they love as if they drink turned beer,
My bare and hard inside for them is only function mere.

I'm praying: bill me, God, I'll pay my soul's arrears
Before your long-awaited word-appeal makes me disappear.

Last plot of the inevitable downfall burns low,
My dreams were perfectly betrayed and shot. I go....


Awakening... her alien bed....
I'm sick and drunk,
And full of mad
Emotions, feelings
My Lord! Forgive me -
Set me free
From ugly loneliness
And stone
Of bared reproach less
Than moan.
I saw Trance Window
To the dark -
Its wind was burying
Last soul's mark....


I've quitted living -
What to rush about
On circles clutching with the Bottom?
To whitewash Motive,
To shoot at former myself -
What happens then?
I have begun
To burn my path return
By other people, other goals.
Tornado freezing
Of my crucified soul
Connects two faces
Of the Host.

I've drunk up laugh
By which before
I fed my sickness, breaking
Secretly from them.
I slide towards the Hope
j With mouth disfigured by offence.
I've quitted living -
No answers
To forest of reproaches, reasons.
I've quitted living -
Being caught by the Eternal:
My final bar,
My needless verse -
I'm singing still alone...


Next morning I see the incorrect dream:
I am in the Past, fall in love, dearest - alive.

Torturing odour of hands ungentle,
The feast of habitual vices. Knock - suddenly:

She came without permission. Sobbing.
The Fate yellingly prayed - as one ought. Fever.

The branches of terrible Hope rot behind window -
Split with abyss of losses, I accept demolition,

But only as playing from above, laughing
Converting the maiden-pain into my line.

Next morning I see the incorrect dream:
I am in the Past, fall in love, dearest - alive...


Turning over pages of streets split
Of alien cities' warped bodies,
I asked the Shadow over them swirling
Whence execution of dreams comes.

The meaning bespattered cuts off the meeting
With blows of beggars and lashes of gods:
Next the flight - the sieve of partings
Will sift the remainder of nonsensical words.

I smooth the design of transmutting to tendernees

With hackneyed gestures of mannered days
Not living on negligence of empty sub-texts
For a long time, which is harsher than death.


Anew I make a date for the Past
Having gnawed by crowd countless times,
By the dream of excuses,
Unwearying, warming myself
Over Fate painted by death.
I try to surmount the meaning
On which my soul's space is held,
I writhe in life's dance -
Bottom's flares
Scatter the night of Hatred.
I drink the estrangement's beverage,
Transparent and pestered,
Diluted with ring of tears.
My yelling is absorbed with intimacy -
I conseal the hollow-cheekedness
With the sheet warped by the line.


I'm not a stranger -
I am - a man,
Love - inner changes,
Have - what I can.

I'm not an alien
Among memories -
Searching for spelling
Of supreme tries.

Twisting the spaces
Of different lies,
I melt in traces
Of pain - not to die.


In that World,
Like on the edge of a blade,

Once again I'm catching at the air of the Soul.
Smiling, I've been reared by the losses.
What has remained for myself? - To write.

What should I write, when the sticky Time
Is cognized after its disappearance.
On the off-chance I'm abandoned by everybody,
My reflection is a withered skeleton.

I'm making my bed for two
For them, in my dream, not to appear from There.
Till the morning I'm saving my warmth for nothing.
Why, it will be neither these nor those.

At that time, going mad with fear,
I'll mottle my paper with the Infinity.
Maybe, this is their atonement:
I'll drink up everything which is getting cold
On the Bottom.

In that World,
Like on the edge of a blade....


Outside the window two birds
Were yelling into my meaning -
The cut ached,
The gibberish cried.
I was racing my moan -
The balcony infinite with ecstasy.
I'll haven't no time to have a drink,
I'll make myself to sew the ardour together
From the Dream
To cool down,
To extort the cordiality for them:
The mirror-like surface
Of the apathetic heart-rendingness.

Outside the window two birds
Were tearing to pieces my life.
The naiveness was asleep
And alive with the Word.
Pheophania's night
Melts with the pain of the mind.
The fancy realm - begone!
The palette is slipping away -
I'm trying to burn the sheet
j Which is the humus of my soul.
Stand up, do not waste your gaze
On the emptiness - there are debts
Which are waiting for their sacrifice.


Semitruth and semiconscience,
Semiargument and semilife.
Semiworld? - Is not worth Fate.
Semimemory? - Begone! - I forgot.

Like the purge for souls,
"Semi-" melts the circle of meaning -
With the semireproach a semifoe
Is lying that he is a semifriend.

The sale with semifeelings,
Food is semifinished.
Is semifull up with semilove.

Semipower is semifreedom,
All are ashamed and make no complaint.
Rejoicing semicaring
We're semisleeping - backwards again?

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© 1996 by Steven Duplij