Поэзия – моя первая любовь. Но писать стихи начала несколько лет назад и сразу на четырех языках: на родном – казахском, русском, английском и немецком.
Poetry is my young love. I started to write poems only a couple years ago in four languages: my native – Kazakh, Russian, English and German.
Poetry
Will-o’-the-wisp
Trying to keep, I lose
You slide like a fish.
Asleep you belong a little
Awoken you belong to light.
I am jealous of your smile…
That belongs to everything, but me.
I need…
I need someone to dream together
To enjoy the moments and the seasons.
I need someone, who feels grand
Being alone and knowing I am there.
I need someone, so wise to understand
That life is short to hurry to the void.
I need someone to share the entire world
In silence, looking at the fading light.
Nobody’s alone with God, but…
in the secrecy of my heart
I need someone to think about…
With tenderness and passion.
The only one, my half –
who represents the Universe.
I need someone I can make happy,
Someone to pray for, to bless, to wait for.
To share cycles of the life with joy,
Someone to trust, to lean on nearby.
Solitude
Solitude made me transparent
It made me hear voice of heart
To talk to those who left –
To pass into… the macrocosm.
It’s my interlocutor and my cover
Floating through the galaxies in freedom
Solitude – my breathe of inspiration
Painting rainbows in the heaven.
Steppe
Steppe! I am a grain of your sand
Born with the soft breezes
Steppe – your ever highest sky
Watches over everlasting soul.
Your eye of day involves the heart –
bleak, sensitive…
Impartial and loving spy,
Revealing insincerity of mind.
Your sagebrush of a bitter taste
And fume refreshes spirit.
A Temple, holding me impervious –
Great Steppe!
I am a grain of your ancient sand.