Poems from my first collection. They are probably five years old, or even older.
Troy?
The madman Paris, forgetting about Troy,
Wants to steal the beautiful Helen.
Not knowing that he is playing with fate,
He is ready to give Aphrodite a token.
But a mortal cannot be a judge of the gods.
The concerns of the gods are not the concerns of men.
But he wanted to rise above the Earth.
But he wanted to become greater than kings.
Helen is faithful to her Menelaus.
Even Aphrodite herself cannot help.
Helen suffers in separation from her beloved,
Sleepless nights bring no peace.
Burning Troy is the madman's reward.
His elder brother perished, and his sister is in slavery.
"Oh, mighty Zeus, God of Thunder, no!
I will throw myself off a cliff before dawn.
Take my life, but let me see
Helen. Perhaps she will forgive.
Forgive! I loved! I didn't want to offend!"
But the sky is silent. The sky is silent...
Alas! The immortal gods are not all-powerful.
The mad Paris is not madder than I.
We both stand at a crossroads.
We both leave, cherishing your image.

Return!
You left. I, left alone,
Only learned about it at midnight:
Under the supervision of old paintings,
I composed poems for You.
But poems are just poems,
And words cannot bring you back.
Whether they are good or bad,
I must walk this long road alone.
I shouted my lines into the sky,
Cursing all the deaf gods.
Voices are heard in my house,
But yours is not among them.
And I saw your face in the mirrors.
In my madness, I threw myself at them, but in an instant,
Fear enveloped my soul,
And I fell, a weakened old man...
Dawn broke. I wept silently.
Only the old portrait on the wall
Understood my soul to the end...
I fell asleep. You appeared in my dream.