My table lamp is casting yellow light on me,
My melancholic thoughts are bittersweet,
And someone’s entering the twilit room
To share this hour with me.
At first I try some mediocre rhymes,
Then touch eternal paths with timid feet,
And then my guest removes her veil, and gloom
Vanishes instantly. We meet,

And I feel joy, but she won’t smile or praise
My amateurish, slightly broken lines;
I’m getting used to her sarcastic face,
Her clear laughter doesn’t hurt.
I drive away my melancholic haze,
The halo of her curly hair shines,
And I admire her unearthly grace
And feel revived and alert.

She’s played her role, and her severity
Has brought new life to my uneven verse,
Electric light fills up my lonely room,
And then she calmly says goodbye,
And all I feel is sweet serenity,
And finding rhymes is no more a curse,
My soul is free from any trace of gloom,
With happy heart I let her fly.

Sometimes I write poetry.When I was younger, I wrote it quite often, but only in Russian. Later I translated some of my verses into English and then wrote a few more, which were in English from the start. I’m going to post my poems here from time to time. Here’s one of them.
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