Рецензия на «Wrench» (Sweetpoison)
I called you with me to the edge of Earth,
But I can’t order now: Forget your World.
Bird-Heart and Wrench escape my breast
Like small, eternal, psychic bomb.
I call you: «Come with me. Forever. Even longer.»
But thousand reasons speak: the end will come.
The Miracle won’t happen — though I’m much stronger —
Her Anchor of the Past will keep her in old home.
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That’s my rendition of your poem. I learned that it is very difficult to grasp the feeling of a foreign language to such extent that every attempt to write will result in successful poetry. Good luck with that!
С хр.л.и.ув.,
thebogdan