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Liana Margiva

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Member Since: Jun, 2006

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Books
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· Poor Folk by F. Dostoyevsky

· Crazy


Short Stories
· The Witch

· The Planet of Rose-Colored Birds

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Poetry
· Last drop of rain

· I Wish I Knew

· Why are you looking at me so sadly

· Cry, Violin!

· From this night on...

· Rose In The Snow

· Tell Me You Love Me

· OLD TREE

· The Past

· PRAY, LINGER, SOUL!

         More poetry...

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Books by Liana Margiva
  Crying Rose
by Liana Margiva
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Liana Margiva
•  Last drop of rain
•  I Wish I Knew
•  Why are you looking at me so sadly
•  Cry, Violin!
•  From this night on...
           >> View all 71


Poetry by Liana Margiva


Rose cries when raindrops hammer
On its petals drumming ballads,
Wails the rose when mighty thunder
Splits the sky with lightning flashes.
Shakes the rose when winds of Autumn
Reap the leaves off fragile branches.

It was only days ago
That the Sun was fiercely blazing,
Now it hides behind the clouds,
Cares not that Death is looming
Over rose’s shriveled petals.

Rose needs the warmth of Summer,
Yearns for solar hot embraces.
You, by hearts of many worshipped,
Know what of pain and torment?

Who your thorns remind of anguish
Of unanswered love forgotten?
Who inhaled your balmy fragrance
Wafting through the rose garden,
Waking up in tight embrace
Of the love that never happened?

Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumn’s ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you.

It will calmly watch from heavens
How the ruthless wind attacks you,
Ripping off your festive garments
That for granted you have taken.
And your former dazzling beauty
Wind will carry ‘cross the garden,
Smear with dirt so people know:
Death has no favorites.

In the death all mortals equal:
Somewhere in the nooks of garden
Shriveled petals slowly wither.
No one will believe, just yesterday
They shone with beauty.


Seasons change, the snow is mortal
And, behold, another rose
Springs to life in all its glory
At the very spot where now
You are weeping, unconsoled.

No one will ever know
How you feared the oblivion,
How you loathed the very notion
Of the farewell to the Sun.

Ruthless wind has no mercy
When it’s ripping off your petals,
Spreads them wide, your pain dividing
For the Earth to suffer less.

Knows the wind without doubt:
Those petals were still breathing
And could last a little longer.
But the laws of fate are finite:
One that’s doomed must pass away.

Cry, my rose, while rain is falling.
It comes to help when once
All tears have been shed.



By Liana Margiva

Translated from Russian by Anatol Kakdiukov




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Reviewed by Amor Sabor
One of my favorite stanzas is this one which tells so much
"Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumnís ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you" -just beautiful Liana
Reviewed by JMS Bell
ONE LOOKS BACK AND RECALLING YOUTHFUL DAYS, BEMAONS THE PASSING OF TIME. ARTFULLY RENDERED, MY FRIEND...WONDERFUL! THANKS SO MUCH FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Reviewed by Carol Phelan Aebby
A beautiful, breathtaking write from beginning to end. It has permanently touched my heart!

With respect,

Carol Phelan Aebby
Reviewed by Teresa Walker
I felt this through and through...loss of love and friends sometimes overwhelmes me! Panic takes place and you don't know how to deal with it! I try to keep my mind and heart in focus on the smell of the rose and remmeber the fragrance that goes on and on...helps me to know ..this to will pass.

What a great writer you are!
Teresa
Reviewed by jude forese
lovely work ...
Reviewed by Axilea MU
I can recognize your sense of tragic fate, your bittersweet melancholy that surrounds the inevitable loss, Liana. And sometimes your poetry (to me) is like a question, a haunting one, that has no answer... life that is a form of resistance against loss and the fear of being forgotten.

Axilea
Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
I wish i could read russian as well or even maybe hear this that way , it is exquisite.
Reviewed by Vivian Dawson
Verse upon verse Exquisite!
*Liana*

Lady Vivian
Reviewed by Regis Auffray
Cry my rose, the Sun is worth it
Even when it fails to warm you,
In the midst of Autumnís ache.
But forget what Sun did promise
When it showered you with passion.
Failed to mention, time will come,
It will turn away as if it never
Caressed you.

Your verses are filled with meaningful symbolism that awakens thoughts and emotions; I can completely relate. Thank you, Liana. Love and best wishes,

Regis
Reviewed by Jon Willey
Liana, this is one of your finest renderings in a long list. The fate of love and all things living, " But the laws of fate are finite;" is a powerful and intuitive observation that shakes us with reality. Thank you for sharing this work whose rhythm carries the reader effortlessly from line to line anxiously awaiting the next emotional encounter. I wish you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael
Reviewed by richard cederberg
A delicious write that soars in sweet aether. The rhythmn you've created, dear Liana, is distinctive. It's as if the reader can't help falling into the next line. Wonderful imagery, too! Your poetic aesthesias continue burgeoning. Thankyou for sharing your exceptional work. And thanks to Anatol for making it accessible to readers like me. richard...
Reviewed by Chip Bergeron
Much wonderul imagery and heartfelt emotion here, Liana...you use your words so well...

Chip Bergeron
Reviewed by Joy Hale
Such a lovely poem, written so tenderly by a very gifted poet. I read through your poem several times to fill my senses with the fragrance of your talent! I will save this one.

Joy L. Hale
Reviewed by David Young
Power that has leaves of contemplation pressed upon a paged rose being shared with time.
Reviewed by Budd Nelson
this is such a well designed and perfectly presented written expression of the full cycle of this beautiful vision that i was compelled to read it twice imeadiately
budd
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
I would have loved to read this in it's original form, Russian. Even so it is a spell-binding and beautiful poem although it deals with death and destruction as it destroy the beauty of the rose.
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