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Записки Безымянного [поэзия]

Лайтбрингер Тимонг

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Разное

Техника

Автомобили и ПДД

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело

Последние комментарии

оксана2018-11-27

Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур

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Professor2018-11-27

Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!

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Vera.Li2016-02-21

Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг

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ст.ст.2018-05-15

И что это было?

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Наталья222018-11-27

Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни

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Записки Безымянного [поэзия] - Лайтбрингер Тимонг - Страница 4

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Феникс

It is the dream of my origin,

For in the dreams I am still virgin,

And still I'm fighting with my sleep,

But hesitate - that's why I weep.

My worthless dreams I must deny,

But still afraid to make the try,

For who am I now to decide

What dream is wrong, what dream is right ?

My purest dream is that of bird -

It is the symbol of the world

Which always change and born anew,

This bird I am, like it I flew.

For like a phoenix I reborn ...

My wings may melt, my wings may worn,

But I'm constantly born anew,

I'm many-faced in others view.

I am restored in the fire,

The fire's cold, that fire's dire,

It forges one's wings to make him flyer ...

It is a grand sight to admire.

From former ego it deprives,

And, as its victim slowly dies,

His flesh begins to grow anew ...

And still survivors are so few.

I'm passing through this coldest hell,

My burning skin is all I smell,

My former past will once unfold ...

It is a strange sight to behold.

For I am one without name,

I've lost my past, rejected fame,

The Earth will never be my home …

I will be free the time I'm gone.

All other worlds awaiting me ...

I will awake, I shall break free,

Inside myself I'm searching deeper -

Such is the fate of the Unsleeper.

No one can help me on my path,

I'm always self, I'm never "us",

Through divine hell I'm passing by

To forge the wings for final flight.

The time will come, I will reborn,

My former skin myself I'll torn,

Reborn anew, becoming flyer -

It's all the wish, it's one's desire.

Бред наивного

What of me? I'm good, you see,

I am the one, who just broke free,

I am those one, who wants to change

Imperfect world within my range.

You people are the strangest guys -

And yet this humankind survives.

I wonder - will it last for long?

Of those my thoughts I'll sing a song.

I want to see you all the better,

Say, more slim and less fatter...

You hear me ? Healthy life rules !

Oh, you do not? Then you are fools !

Stop wasting time and start to work -

And your achievements will just rock !

You hear that? I know of this !

And hold your anger, hold it, miss !

Forget your sorrows and be happy...

Or do you need a soul-nappy?

It is a pleasure to just live -

So start to smile and to thrive !

Reject your anger, calm your mind

And leave those selfish thoughts behind !

I am your brother and your sister...

And stop looking like that, you, mister !

Move close to nature, leave the city

And thus rejoice at true world's beauty !

We are the nature beings, men,

And must accept her, now and then !

Make friends and peace in all the world -

That's our future, I've been told.

So now make peace, forget wars, please,

Hold on your fire, cease it, cease !

Reject yourself to find new one,

To see you as a divine son,

Stop webbing those words on the shelf -

"To know the world is to know yourself" !

You hear me? I know of that !

To help you see the truth I'm glad !

Hey, you, stop throwing this at me,

I'm not a jester, don't you see ?!

There is a way out of this maze -

Your mindless life you need to raze !

That's how for now I end my phrase …

No more, I can't hold your gaze !

You'll ask for future of this one,

If he became that "divine son"?

Oh, he soon died in foreign lands -

And that is how this story ends.

Побочный эффект

I've come to this for now at last -

All past no more than a dust

With dead ideals full of rust

Now blown away with fresh wind's gust.

I am much older that I seem,

No more than a chip in stream,

I am no body and no mind …

The day they die - I'll live behind.

I am the many, and still one,

All these "me"s look just so fun,

And day by day they passing by ...

It is all me - and still not I.

I have no wings - thus cannot fly,

There are no means to make a try,

And still I say - the heavens' mine,

In own dreams I soar just fine.

But what I do - I do for me,

It is myself whom I make free,

It's only I who sees the change

And all the rest may find it strange.

And in the way to consciousness skies

I have been given one small prize

Which is a key to final cage -

This given word will free the sage.

It is a weapon, this word's blade,

From ore of stars it has been made,

And though this gift may not be perfect -

It is a wonderful side effect...