I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.
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Comments
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I can relate to this poem.
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wow- see I see this type of poetry as brilliance- pure connection with life itself...vs the overpowering of technique and yet simplicity always only 'appears' simple- technique is hidden away so you can't see it. I love this- poetry at it's best.
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very nice
"I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back"
very nice simple expression
the end is very realistic.this is a woundeerful piece of thought
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