Treasure Island

Roman Tunkel


Leaves


Leaves, leaves, leaves...
Like thoughts, they fall with a twist.
And then, at the close of the day,
The night comes to sweep them away,
Wiping them clean with its broom –
To groom the Earth, to groom…

Rain, rain, rain...
It hammers its nails into brain,
The drops – they dance and they spring,
So, why does this image bring
The pang as I'm looking at it -
But let it, but let it, but let it...

Howling, howling, howling...
My soul is aching and moaning.
Not for the rainy sky,
But for the years passing by,
Washing the dreams away –
With gray, with gray, with gray...

The summer is sneaking out,
The fall's flying in on the cloud,
Embracing me in its cloak,
As feelings are running amok
And sound escapes on a wing –
And arms that wring, that wring...

April 1976

Submitted: Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Edited: Friday, August 23, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

written (rus) 1976, translated 2008

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