The most inexhaustible, sublime, tender, and infinitely thorny subject for creativity is the theme of love. All poets of the world wrote, write and will write about this immense, marvelous, and deep feeling - poems, sonnets, dedications. And I'm one of them, who is trying to learn and understand my own self in the vast ocean of human happiness and misery, which name is love




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The days without dawns are passing

The days without dawns are passing,

I’m losing them when I see dreams,

So dull, obscure and depressing,

As shimmer dies on window-pane.


My boyhood, morning I recall,

A cheery primal break of day:

As if the sun would fire skies, -

Rainbow’s splendor of bouquet.


Will it be such as in the past –

A glorious rainbowy dawn?

Can our feelings pass the test

And thereby to heart attest?


And I believed then for first time

In your most loving tender gaze

Which gave its ultimate response:

We shall be meeting many dawns.



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