Poems... Auto-translated

ONE OF MY FAVORITES
P.S. DOES NOT APPLY TO ME

I summon all the forces of Darkness here,
To this deadly fight,
So that a new, black star may rise
And become my star.
Let it be a hundred times hotter than the Sun
For those who stand against me,
And let all enemies burn like gnats
In the black font of fire!

Added after 1 minute
ONE OF MY FAVORITES
P.S. DOES NOT APPLY TO ME

I summon all the forces of Darkness here,
To this deadly fight,
So that a new, black star may rise
And become my star.
Let it be a hundred times hotter than the Sun
For those who stand against me,
And let all enemies burn like gnats
In the black font of fire!

ABOUT MEN

Various men wander the world.
Literally, about two hundred words on this topic.
First, there are real men.
There are very handsome ones, simply brilliant.
Some have legs like sticks. Some are heavyweights.
Some are very serious. And some are just playboys.
Men who tease, men who bore,
Men who are taverns, men who are strays.
There are supermen. There are hedgehogs in shorts.
There are strange guys and master athletes.
There are eccentrics. There are academics.
Men who are pragmatic, men who are polemic.
Some are written with a capital letter. Some are written with a large number.
Some are absolutely not waiting for a rhyme.
A man who says, "I'll get married," and a man who says, "Never!"
A man who always holds the coat.
There are classmates, there are groupmates.
Men who are saviors, men who are defenders.
Always alluring and sleeping nearby.
A man who can captivate with a single glance.
And simply the end of everything – the excellent student,
The accountant man, Vasek the border guard.
But there are no two identical ones in the world.
We have understood something about this subject.
Soft and naive are the men-pillows.
Casanova whispers nonsense in your ear.
The family man is quite predictable.
And at seventy, he will still be an ideological man.
The jealous man will simply annoy you.
The man-scab will never leave you alone.
The man-sine is always fluctuating.
And the man-minus has no advantages.
The ideal has a huge heart.
The old pepper has a soul on a latch.
The men with foggy eyes are terrible.
The men with sleepless nights are beautiful.
The old man has a simple nature.
And the athlete has a large figure.
The young student has half the country in his eyes.
The super-agent has a desire to abandon everything.
There are conversations in gazebos with the young man-iamb.
But the sweetness of victory is with the man-stamp.
Men behave differently.
We have seen all sorts of things from them.
The man-alarm clock will wake you up at dawn.
And at night, the glutton climbs into the refrigerator.
He will protect you from snow, from rain, from hail.
The annoying but necessary man-ruberoid.
The man-seducer will drive you crazy.
The man-trickster will put you in your place.
The boy-atheist will make you repent.
The man-off-roader will take you to the taiga.
The man-cigarette burns with passion.
The man-eraser has been erased from memory.
Here is our Don Juan, he has disappeared somewhere.
Why did the man-exchange replace us?
What does a man need who doesn't know
Where and why he is leaving now?
How long will we be provoked to do things
By men who are making concessions to us?
Stuck, as if in a jungle, in impenetrable words,
We are looking for you, tender, inviting, and passionate.
A man-hero and a way to escape boredom,
A young man-holiday and strong arms.
We need more men – good and diverse!
Fewer talkative, stupid, and idle ones!
Let us note on behalf of the women of the Earth:
We have done everything we could for you!
We are mothers, lovers, sisters, friends,
Medicines and children, dreams and spouses.
You are our protection, reliable shoulders,
Deep thoughts, passionate speeches.
You are the pride of Victory. You are the keys to the heart.
You are pebbles in the windows, you are songs in the night.
And you know, it's great, even if it's not easy,
To captivate the eternally gloomy man-cosmos,
To spit on the bald head of the man-figure,
And to cause a stir in the entire Higher League.
Don't put the man-book to bed with you,
Leave the boy-chip to your friends,
And the greatest happiness is to jump up in the middle of the night
Hearing the ringing of the man-tamagotchi.

Added after 48 seconds
:) :) :) :) :) :) :)

Added after 23 minutes
DO NOT LIGHT A CANDLE! A poem written at night...

How many days are left?
All these days are yours.
Just keep warming
With the light of your love.

Just be with me
As long as I have strength,
So that I will never
Live without you.

I can't be alone –
I'm too used to being together.
Just don't leave.
Be in my air.

I scream into the void,
I whisper into the darkness:
Don't light a candle!
Don't light a candle!

Just open the window
And let the day in for me.
I've been waiting for you for a long time –
I've been looking all night…

If you are here with me,
Then love is alive.
Just stay, linger.
Don't say a word!

These are my translations of poems by great German poets! :) 1st - Goethe, 2nd - Heine.

On the mountaintops, there is peace and tranquility;
You can hardly feel a breeze here;
And the birds in the forest are silent, they don't sing;
Just wait a little, my dear friend,
Soon you will find shelter here too.


On the bare northern peak
A lone pine tree stands,
Sleeping under a white blanket,
That wraps it in ice and snow.

In its dream, it sees a palm tree,
That in the land where the sun rises,
Grows alone and sadly
On the sands in the desert.

Something I wrote not too long ago...

Demon

My wayward black stallion,
You emerged from the hellish gorges -
In your eyes, I see a fire,
Blazing with desire and sulfur!

Without fear, I shall mount you,
Not flinching at the frantic sparks,
That give birth to primordial flame
And find meaning within the meaningless.

The beat of hooves, and blurred faces...
Carry me far away!
Like the shadow of a swift bird
Over a mad and wretched land...

...A black wanderer and a white rider,
Black branches in white snow,
The veil of human legends,
Pain in the chest in a lonely wind...

Trample my past dreams,
Have no pity for the rot of past losses,
Tears in the purifying flame -
This is the catharsis of my life...

You are a demon, frost is in my hair...
Why are we suddenly together?...
Like a single unity of lines,
Tearing the soul along with fate.

We have something in common, demon:
Setting fire behind us once more
To the doors of the past and to hope,
You and I have never known love...

Under the shade of gloomy forests, in the intoxicating emptiness,
a weary traveler, lightly burdened, suddenly met me.
His eyes looked as if he had seen
what is hidden from people, but who is he?
I watched through the foliage as he carefully picked up
a trampled sprout from the thoughtful earth.
He turned it in his hands and whispered something...
and was it just my imagination?
the sprout became alive again!
Under the shade of gloomy forests, I am no longer afraid;
now there is also him in the world – a guardian of life on earth!

Added 1 hour 51 minutes ago
My song;) For those who understand not only Heroes, but also English. It's quite slow:
I run the desert of my life...
and there's nowhere else to hide
and the stars for me too bright - dig that...
Well, I've been trying to obey
to the rules the world has made
and I'm trying to survive - dig that
Things, which seem beautiful to me
it's so hard to set them free
'cause nobody let them be - I know it
streets full of people pass me by,,
but I see no man to smile...
So what for they are alive? I wonder...
Why, I'm standing so deprived
in desert of our life
in circus world by size...
Dreams...the only place to hide
to hide them deep inside
in circus world by size.

Added 20 hours 14 minutes ago
The last sparks are flickering
in the azure of the celestial juice
I hear sad melodies -
motifs of angels of God...
The earth, trembling, listens
to the story of the creation of light
to crucifixions leading us to paradise,
to vices leading us to fall...
May the living be glorified!
suffering for the pain of generations,
he is directed to the righteous path
by a cross and a wreath on the grave.
And death, again listening to the song,
again praises the savior - God,
it goes with him on the same road
together with deliverance.
everyone is happy, everyone gets what they deserve...
Perhaps, in the distance, a concern for a close friend will awaken,
a servant of capricious fortune.
But somewhere the fire will not go out, the green crystal - this is the heart!
it can no longer be repainted
neither by malice, nor by lies, nor by revenge.
The green crystal today
burns with a solitary light -
just go to it, you will not find an answer in hell.
Do you think you are saved by the crucifixion?
do you think that the cross is a burden?
you are right, because by taking it off someone else's shoulder,
you pierce yourself with a shard firmly.

What a monster! She found a replacement for you, Although I still love you even more! My heart yearns for love like a prisoner, Realizing life without you is even more painful. I'm tired of seeing pity in people's faces, And the smoke of burnt happiness swirls above. I want to live, so I can tell you one more time: "That everything is fine with me, that life again allowed me to fall in love." I want to say one more thing: "Goodbye!" And a cry from my soul bursts from my heart like a bird. I am strong and I will be able to forget you, you know, And achieve a lot in my life.

Since people are writing not only their own things here, I will write something too... my favorite. I warn you, all rights to the texts belong to Tam Greenhill. Oh yes, those who have read "The Witcher" will understand a little more... "Defenders of Shaerraved" Golden grass has turned red from blood The blackness from the fire cannot be erased from the white wall Lord-victor, allow the captive to speak a word, Before death takes me away into the mist... My word is not a sword, It cannot protect from fate, Blood on the white wall, In war, it is what it is! We fought for death, defending the burning city, And now we are only given a couple of hours, You see, my brother stands there, he is still so young, Let him go, prince – I will answer for both of us! How hot the blood is, Like a black bird from my shoulder, My soul will fly away, And fate cannot be stopped! Let him go, prince, you see – he is afraid of death, He has lived so little, he should not have become a warrior, You hear how the soul beats like a frightened bird, Have you not grown tired of spilling blood for this battle? But in your eyes is steel, You do not pity the stranger, What are my words to you, The steel of the sword is always right! A cold face freezes into an indifferent mask, And in the eyes is the verdict – "The stranger cannot be forgiven!" It is a pity that a happy ending can only exist in fairy tales, But it is not worth asking for the gift of life from mortals, my brother! Extend your hand to me, We will step through the fire, Through pain and through fear, Carrying a star in our hands... For now, that's all...

My latest creation...

I am but a pawn in this game,
Played by the Angel and the Devil.
I am like a shadow on a cold wall -
I only have the right to seek warmth.

We all have only one concern:
To live, not knowing our own fate.
Only in the heart, something unseen
Lingers at the secret threshold.

Flesh is forever bound in chains,
Wings are torn out from our roots.
The scorching cold for the crippled -
Is now only the curse of pride.

And now... Are there brave souls
In the wild waltz of terrible times?
When death is like a speck of dust on land -
A queen of hundreds of names.

Many who wanted to live differently -
To lose themselves forever in a world of fantasy.
But reality's bill remains unpaid:
For man is powerless before it.

No one can escape to the heavens,
No one can swim into the depths of black waters,
But in the struggle with this cold world
Let everyone find themselves!

Let heroes be found in the desert
Of gray faces and stone walls.
Let it become warmer from now on
For all who believe in the good of change.

Let this game become more honest
In the combination of different worlds.
Let hope shine beyond the line
From all the blissful dreams...

when night falls upon the city –
the undead emerge onto the streets
not those who have departed from us forever,
but those who are tormented in their souls

once, an old, gray-haired man,
slightly tipsy,
was quietly walking home
when he saw
how many of them there were

he wanted to shout,
but a hand gently touched his shoulder
“Be quiet,”
the old man replied, “Okay…”

some guys were sitting in the park,
reflecting on the day that had passed
they came from the darkness,
black crosses on their faces

darkened silver flashed,
and now, not just one body
lies in the grave, destined
to remain silent forever

the cruelty of silence,
the order of stillness,
those who dare to be insolent
will all fall silent…

let a scream pierce the silence,
he who did not want to be silent
will go into the darkness of the grave –
silence will be his fate forever

and the black cross on their faces
will eternally guard the silence
and the bright gleam of silver
fades with them into the darkness…

my cheerful poem, later reworked into a song. (Silens…)

And this is a congratulatory poem for the contest from Nival, written by the founder of this topic. :)

My girlfriend wrote me this little piece, check it out:

Looking at you,
I see my own perfection -
The perfection of taste, the taste of happiness with you.
Listening to your voice - my eyes sparkle -
The birds sing, and my soul feels so light -
Because you are near.
My hands, in your hands,
Your eyes, in my eyes.
And together we feel -
The same scent - the scent of love,
The scent of warmth - our warmth.
We stand alone, feeling
An extraordinary, fragrant breeze.
Encompassing our hearts,
And holding them with such strength,
As the sun shines -
It whispered - "this is Love"
Love just as it is,
Sharp and tender
Hard and soft
Like a nightingale's morning song
Like a calm sea.

It dawned on me this morning =)


Far from the noise of cities,

Far from the dust and roads

Among forests, meadows, fields,

A lone unicorn wandered...

He wandered among stems and flowers,

Plucking them with his lips...

Then suddenly he would dash away at a gallop

And play with himself.

And the chains of loneliness

He did not feel at all,

A child of midnight's pure dreams

Alone... he was a stranger to all.

Racing like an azure arrow,

A transparent flash in the grass

He admired himself,

And felt the power within him...

And knew for certain that never

Would he be conquered...

That young unicorn

Was in love with freedom!

...............................................

And if someone suddenly finds

A blue trail in the grass,

It means a unicorn was here...

Gifted by fate.

Memory plays with us as it pleases
Sometimes, it makes you want to howl
From the desire to forget
But it doesn't want to let go

Then you can't remember something
And the mischievous memory stubbornly resists
It seems like it wants to be remembered
But it won't let you, no matter what

I fight with this stubborn girl
But she defeats me
Bringing back the happy moment
With the quiet sadness of a bygone day

Memory is like a basket of mushrooms
Collecting, piece by piece, the fragments of days
Into a colorful picture
Of the years of my life.

Part 1. The Gallant Knight
Once there lived a knight—gallant George,
A fine man in every way.
He lived in a Castle—without a care,
Drinking whiskey by the bucketful,
He loved to ride his horse,
Falling about fifteen times a day.
Such a handsome fellow
Had a wife to match—
The kind one could only dream of.
The woman's name was Laura,
And she was the pillar
For her husband in every endeavor—
Such is a woman's calling.

One day the knight thought:
"I'm tired of having fun,
I must go to war immediately!
Gather, my host!
To beat and thrash the terrorists!"
Everyone rushed to the slogan,
Tossing their bonnets into the air,
Glorifying George loudly.
George did not remain silent,
He gave a speech and in it confessed:
"I sleep at night—the enemy creeps,
Loudly and noisily he chews
A delicious, fatty sandwich.
I rise, dressed in armor—
The song of terror is sung!
I creep up to him quietly,
Let him not know of me,
I approach him from behind,
I feel he's carrying pancakes.
The theft outraged me—
I honored the enemy with my sword.
I looked—it was the captain of the guard...
And that is why we all
Must beat the terrorists."
They applauded standing up,
What else to do—the knight was right.

Laura soberly adds:
"That's all true. But who knows
Where to look for the terrorists?"
The host fell silent instantly.
Then an old mage approaches,
Clearly no fool to everyone:
"There is one country in the world,
Dominion does not shine for it,
But a terrible ruler lives there—
An evil and vile enemy—Saddam!
He welcomes terrorists,
Violates the rights of 'Georges',
Extracts plenty of oil,
There's a whole mountain of oil there—
It's time to share!"
The host screamed terribly:
"The terrorists must be thrashed!"

"It's decided," George replied,
Looking like a hero.
He was a fine man in every way...

Regards, Draco

Added 2 minutes later
Part 2. The Gallant Knight: The End.

Once there lived a knight—gallant George,
He looked like a hero,
Unfortunately not for long—
The road led to the terrorists...

The backstory is as follows:
He drank whiskey while resting,
So much so that he couldn't speak,
And decided that he was a god!
A god cannot drink and eat,
A god must wage war—
The thought came from nowhere...
Fortunately, it all passed by morning,
Only a feeling remained,
Like a persistent song
It spun in his head,
Like it had locked into a ditch,
Meaning, it snapped its chain:
"I will not drink anymore!"—
Suddenly, a lucky thought occurred...

He stepped outside the gates gloomy:
"What's left? Running?"—
He collapsed into the snowdrifts.
"Or maybe sunbathing?"—
He was still drunk, apparently!
"No, I will wage war!",
And he summoned his host...

That is the backstory,
Well, for those who don't know,
I send you to Part One.
Whoever wants to know more
Must read that first...

A great crowd gathered,
They all sat by the road,
Repeating the old slogan:
"Beat and thrash the terrorists,"
And they went to take Saddam.
But Saddam is no simple
Fellow with a beard—
He has a camo suit,
He is only glad to fight.
In his long robe
He began to look like a Bedouin,
Thinking he would frighten,
Break the enemy's will,
Terrorists would rule
This world forever,
Yes, yes to global evil!
So thought the evil Saddam,
In the evil country where he ruled alone.
He didn't spend long pondering:
He gathered a terrible army...

On the battlefield they met,
Two villains, two heroes,
Standing and looking death in the face,
Waiting for a happy end,
Two handsome darlings.
The army, the host fight somewhere,
And it rushes along with the wind:
Screams of pain, sounds of fights,
Someone's exclamation, a loud fuck,
The clashing of sharp rapiers
(Oh, sorry, not that here—
The thud of bullets in the enemy's vest).
In short, a brutal game...

And they stand face to face,
As if to be led to the altar now,
Waiting for this to begin...
Summer crawls by quietly...
It is no longer carried by the wind...
And the poet's patience
Dries up with every day.
Pretending a stump is a stump!

Then, of course, the stumps rose up,
Suggested a few words to me,
But I won't write them,
Lest I get banned again!..

"Hey, surrender, enemy Saddam!
I'll give you a candy—
You'll live, sucking on it,
And stop grieving!"—
Our gallant knight shouted.

"You're having a stupid dream,
Why? Because you're a fool!
Who would just give away candy like that?"—
The Bedouin answers—
"You are a fool, and there are no reasons
To give away candy!"

"Stop calling me names...
I don't want to play with you..."

"If you don't want to—don't play,
But learn my secret:
I am your father, gallant George,
Don't you see how similar we are?"
Here I'll insert a silent scene.
I'll add a little from myself,
That an Indian soap opera—
Is not the finale at all...

Uncle Vova approaches them,
He puts in his word weightily—
One in the eye, one in the brow:
"Friendship, peace to all, and love...
Prepare the 'Topol-M' for launch!"

And now the story ends:
Uncle Vova didn't miss...

P.S.:
I couldn't write it any other way.
Let this be a patch
That fixes the bugs in the world.
And here the satire ends...

Regards, Draco

Had your fill?

I stand above the abyss, something is down there,
And I find it incredibly interesting.
I run faster and I'm already flying,
Singing someone's song in the wind.
My life is so worthless,
I don't know how I could have lived like this.
How many have I killed? I don't even know anymore,
Will people ever be able to forgive me?
I remember being born in a scorched desert,
Kilometers away from me – only endless sand.
To find a town, you need to force yourself
To wander through the desert for an hour.
I remember walking around the world, killing monsters,
Becoming stronger and more agile.
I didn't give any new, unsuspecting person a break,
Saying, "There's a war going on, and it's very cruel."
And then – a knock at the door. Everyone to the draft office!
They're asking you to serve the Motherland.
Here we go, here we go, I'm a soldier now,
I will bring benefit to humanity.
But the two years I spent playing the game
I will never get back.
And I decided proudly among the people
To kill my character.
But having decided to do that, I won't forget:
The solution has become a problem for me,
So be it, I'll tell you and I won't hide it
After all, I'm a mage of level 200!