⇚ На страницу книги

Читать Стихокатарсис

Шрифт
Интервал

© Анастасия Панова, 2019


ISBN 978-5-0050-9490-2

Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero

A stoic zeal

Be your lifes’ grateful Master,
Nourish a fluffy cluster.
Day by day and drop by drop
You’ll receive a cosy crop.
Let a pioneering thaw
Be your mentalitys’ law.
Let your belief, passion and zeal
Be your motivating meal.
Have inside yourself a spark
Even when it’s cold and dark,
Always have a stoic zeal,
Don’t let anything it kill.

Existence

Is patience a useful quality?

It depends on your reality.

You should know your existences’ main goal:

It will help you not to be a weak ball.


You should be patient, active and strong,

When you raise up for your lifes’ fruitful song,

But it’s useless to suffer and hope

That the same seeds will bring another crop.


You can feed your meaningful existence.

Not everything depends on persistence:

There is also a fortune, fate,

No matter you cherish it or hate.


Everyone has his lifes’ subjective vision,

But only the Earth knows your mission,

It leads everybody along his way,

From his very first to very last day.


There is no reason to bother:

The Earth is just like our mother.

Trust her.People, signs, chances are her speach,

This is how Mums care, love, teach.

Aftertaste

Become Aesculapis of your lifes’ atavism,

Learn yourself to see the world without albugo,

Forget forever your anxiety and alarmism,

Remember that everything has precious lanugo.


Have an appollonian mind, escape prejudice,

Be impressed by the world like you were a tyros, a calves,

Make your spirit be white coloured as a fresh rice,

Nothing do not at the aerobatics, by halves.


Give people after your life superlative aftertaste,

It should be ebulient, indomitable, bon-deep,

Make your name never become forbidden, erased,

Realize your destination, never give up or creep.

Боевой дух VS капитуляция

Ответственность – сестрица слова «отвечать»,

Не только перед кем-то, но и пред собой,

Ведь все на свете оставляет тень, печать,

И все, что ныне скрыто, вынесет прибой.


Была война. Миллионы жизней на кону.

Бойцы, это зная, держались на плаву.

Прочувствовали ответственность за страну,

Отнюдь не меняли на мнимую халву.


На кону, как в войну, жизни, идеалы,

Но люди куда чаще сбегают с поля битвы,

А идеалы – счастья материалы,

И без них внутри как будто шрам от бритвы.


Капитуляция с поля боя часта,

Будь так с боевым духом во время войны,

Не была бы Россия от врага чиста,

Не видать бы нам мирной жизни и весны.

A little bird told me

A little bird told me once upon a time,

I listened to her with all ears,

I thought her speeсh’s worthy and it’d be a crime

Not to remember it for years.


She told whether it comes rain or shine

Don’t be little frog of society,

To face the music’s your mission and mine,

Stem the tide, surprise reality.


Don’t you ever scratch the surface

And you will hit upon the meanings,

You’ll discover unforgettable space,

And it will touch and thrill your feelings.


Escape unuseful, rigid red tapes,

They make slow, destroy your progress,

Always give everything your own shapes,

Surprise humanity and impress.


Try to live in a constant flow,

Don’t be indifferent, rigid, dead,

Don’t make anything for a show,

Remember the words which the bird said.

I cherish

I admire monkey’s birthdays, aroma of rain,