English poems by olga shvets
I have my little-little world.
I hide it deep inside.
And when my way becomes too curl,
My world becomes my guide.
And when my friend forgets my name,
My phone keeps silent long, —
I hug my world. It’s all the same,
But makes me cool and strong.
And when the sky becomes too dark,
My world becomes a star.
I follow it’s inspiring spark,
And have my eyes ajar.
What’s it? My dream? My soul? My God?
I guess I’ll never know.
I’ll never make my mind it’s quad.
It is – and let it go!
The Master of our souls —
He's put this enormous scene.
But he has forgotten
To tell us the roles
And stays just unknown and unseen…
He tries with a look of a lawyer,
He kills with a look of a butcher.
The greatest creator,
The greatest destroyer,
The Master of our future.
Hey, go away of my back door
There is a secret upper floor,
There is a room, where no one walks,
And seven locks keep safe a box.
A priceless treasure is inside –
A seed of love, I am to hide.
It would become a fruitful tree…
Hey, go away… or make it free!
The Death and the Life
Are similar souls.
They use the same knife –
But different goals.
The Life is like a sparkling stream
Which never stops its waters green
Beyond grassed hills and flowered fields
Where the Death its palace builds.