Monday, March 1, 2021





Nameless Song


It is simple, my friend, it is simple.

Wacky world from the start and forever:

Nameless mountains, valleys and rivers,

Nameless stars on the heavenly ceiling.


An anonymous mail towards you:

Autumn leaves are brought from a distance.

Do not hurry to maim this essence

By the ugly stamp of a word.


People build up of words their shields –

Not to get through them, not to pierce.

And it would be much better to stay

On this side for your own sake.


But we are not to be all alone,

So it draws you to them with no choice,

And the cloth of silence is torn,

And the wind's picking up your voice.


And your soul is spreading the wings,

Taking off to fly like a bird,

Knocking hopefully on the windows

Till it's tired of being unheard.


Just the shutter will slam like a thunder,

While outside there's only the rain

Shedding tears till the dawn, and no wonder

That nobody will call you name.


It is simple, my friend, it is simple.

Wacky world from the start and forever:

Nameless stars on the heavenly ceiling,

Nameless mountains, valleys and rivers. 





The world around me has vanished, lost in the night.

All things and thoughts seem fallen in some black hole.

The wires are ruptured, the sky is flashing with light

Or, maybe, it's the result of my last default.


And since the dark has taken me by surprise

I've lit a candle, remained of Christmas Eve.

Its gentle flame is dancing before my eyes

Obedient to your whisper, my true belief.


I pour out my soul onto the sheet,

I write a letter to someone who's drawn a sword,

And looking over my shoulder you try to read,

But obviously understand not a single word.


I hear you saying again: I should not give up.

Oh, can you recall the time when you were betrayed?

I wonder if ever you saw me draining your cup

And bearing that very cross to the top one day.


Let poetry be my last escape from the blues.

I heard about its healing creative force.

The way rough diamonds turn into precious jewels

It facets our feelings and secret thoughts.


My pen is running along and filling the page,

The flame is dancing, and slowly drop by drop

The melted wax is running over the edge…

I guess that trust has nothing to do with hope.


It's really hard to live on and never wait,

To liberate all your fantasies, let them fly,

Resigning to the maxima "come what may",

And write your story across the undying sky.


My poetry is the candle your love has lit.

It's not the wax, but verses are dripping down.

The wick of life is burning – I've got a bit,

When everything is written I'll simply die.


Or possibly it will end up with less delay,

If someone, who wants to leave to forget my face,

Just slams the door behind and goes away,

And blows out my dream

To another space.


You're not a smoker – there are no matches at hand

To make alive that one decided to break.

I know my fate, and truly I don't pretend.

Please shelter my lonely light from a big mistake. 



Lost Soul


I had a dream that my soul got lost

Wandering in a parallel world

Searching for someone at any cost

Lighting up matches and getting cold


Darkness above and bewitching snow

Left no more colours before her eyes

Yet she keeps wishing only to know

Whether she’s worthy of paradise


All of a sudden, the ocean coast

Azure of skies, emerald wave

Changes can’t strike you when you’re lost

For desolation is madly brave


So, she is walking along the sea

Seeking his trace in the strangest dream

In solitude she’s wishing to see

If paradise is worthy of him




GALINA ITALYANSKAYA, 43 y.o., born in the USSR in a small northern town, now living in Russia with her children and working as an English teacher. Since the early childhood she’s been in love with nature: dense forests, rivers and lakes, mountains and seas. Actually, its beauty surrounds her all her life. She has travelled a lot, and it is always a source of inspiration. Her other interests are photography and art. She loves to draw pictures, and she hardly can imagine going on a trip or just for a walk without a camera. Galina has written poetry since her school years. About 10 years ago she composed her first poem in English, inspired by her friend from abroad. And thanks to poetry she’s found many good friends all over the world. In 2015 she joined “Poets Unite Worldwide” group, and some of her poems were published in their anthologies.

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