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Poetry by Liana Margiva
Pray, don’t rush to beyond
To the world with no sound
Where there’s no him, do not beckon!
Let me see him again, although there is no gain
With the ruthless eternity reckon.
He will not recognize my devoted eyes
Where love like a candle was burning.
Gone the spark, snuffed the flame.
He will not get a chance for a transient glance
On the soul that one crispy Spring morning
In that garden of ours was awaiting the flowers
While the candle was festively burning.
Candle burned through the years,
Dripping hot waxy tears,
Hoping one day his heart would thaw,
But his heart wouldn’t yield, hidden by icy shield
And the candle is burning no more.
But the tiniest spark stayed alive in the dark
Amongst ashes all lifeless and vain.
At the end of long road, so lonely and old
They were destined to meet once again.
From the ashes and dust spark ignited the lust,
All the passion of days of the yore.
And the flames that it stoked
Seared the heart that was broke
And the heart is now bleeding no more.
Pray, don’t leave! Cast a glance,
Give me one fleeting chance,
It was me who so much you adored.
I have changed with the years
I have cried all my tears
And my eyes are asylum of sorrow.
Dreams of you have expired and desires retired,
As my life its sad exit was making,
Lips went cold with the wait for the break of the fate,
For the touch of your lips they were aching.
Froze the lips that eternity waited for kiss,
Stars have stopped to unknown me call.
And the flowers’ bloom, like in youth now doomed
Your name’s fragrance no longer recall.
The bouquet of the Spring lacks love’s spicy sting,
Whiff of bitterness wafts in the sky -
The reminder of love that was sent from above,
One that passed so closely by.
Without you the Sun refused to shine
Upon my flowers that so briefly bloomed.
Their tender petals that refused to die
The mighty wind in passing blow doomed.
The love is buried in the shrine of heart
That no longer yearns for it in vain,
The fate has ruled for them to stay apart
Some day the tears will take away the pain.
Life’s in the past – I heard those words a lot,
Today I know what they really mean.
The heart that loved you in the grave will rot,
Bathed by the tears that washed the pain off clean.
So, pray, don’t rush to cold and cruel world,
Where life went by with us a world apart.
And let me for the last time to behold
The one I loved with all my bleeding heart!
When I was trapped in your tight embrace,
My heart was longing for his tender hands,
But they were busy at another place,
On someone else he cast a lustful glance!
By Liana Margiva
Translated from Russian by Anatol Kardiukov
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|Reviewed by William Bonilla
|The Oast is a masterpiece of poetry
I loved reading it most enjoyable
thank you for sharing
Love & Peace be with you
|Reviewed by Vivian Dawson
|Look back, but move on
for poetic justice..
|Reviewed by Jon Willey
|Liana, 'The Past', segments of our lives in suspension, irretrievably lost in time. Yet vividly alive within the scars of our hearts, the laments of our whirling memories. We are unable to exhume the passion even though it smolders within our paling thoughts. This, is superb poetry and the emotions are masterfully homologated into a serenade for the sanctity human life. May love and peace be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael|
|Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
|Liana, such a bittersweet and stunning poem.|
|Reviewed by D. Vaineo
|Liana, Beautifully written and comes from your heart and soul!
|Reviewed by Amor Sabor
|Liana, your work does so much for inspiration and lifts the eye towards a higher plane...it is beautiful in its expression and lives on in eternity's flame. One need only to look within the heart to reveal the love and passion that lies buried but alive and well.|
|Reviewed by Amber Moonstone
This is absolutely stunning poetry, told with a passion and longing that comes directly from your heart!
Much Peace, love and light,
|Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger
The one I loved with all my bleeding heart.
Sping's glance of longing. Marvelous writing Liana.
Lady Mary Ann
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|The last line says it all. Why all that torment and pain from the past came back to roost with you at last. A tormenting and dark write about life-and-death that gets one thinking.
|Reviewed by Budd Nelson
|deep and moving
|Reviewed by Richard Orey
|"The Past" recounts with sorrow the trappings of life with a ton of emotions, reminding me to focus less on what was and more on what is. Fortunately, time forgives the sting of abuse and hurt even as it favors our present with memories of past delights.
As always, Dear Liana, you share with us the prized value of your unique perspective. Thank you.
|Reviewed by John Domino
|A great poetic account of life. Nice an easy read and it should not be.
|Reviewed by richard cederberg
|A marvelously written, sad, account, dear Liana. Your poetic gift remains remarkably vibrant. Thankyou for sharing. Peace to you and Anatol, and continued inspiration... richard|
|Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
|very good write!|
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
|Oh boy. This screams at the reader with unloved lips and a dead voice. So much wistfulness. So much hidden, secret desire suddenly thrown into the world, saying, "Look at me! Look what could have been! Look at me now, beaten and broken.|