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.

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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.

 

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