Unknown Author, The Poetry Perfection - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

Well, shall I wait for a time, when a core -
My soul - will be only words?
And then the artless words, as water,
Would give a birth to icy facets, swords?

Is this an ice? A steel?
The tears? Laugh?
Or is it sweat? Or a blood stream?
Or is it grace? Or sin in life?

And that is - the true Poetry!
How could the people be a Poetry?
Without body, mind or spirit
We can't live on this earth in real.

But how's the Word? And how's the verse?
How's the rhyme, the style, and the Perfection?
The true core, surely, exists in them. And only there.

The Poetry is living in the Mind,
Like a grey-haired oldman with a freedom
Of a flying bird, who has aqcquired
With the language knowledge - withput name or meaning.

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Another translation look Ric.S.Bastasa
http: //archive.diary.ru/~Ajisaemon/? comments&postid=42754457

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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2012/05/02/4875