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.   (Без рейтинга)
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