Category Archives: TATI’S POEMS

Oops!… We Did It Again (Immortality)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via admin@unbolt.me. We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2014-2018

Why do you crave my Autumn? // Что в осени тебе моей?

This post was created at the insistence of Cyan Ryan. His friendly support and professional editing helped me to express myself as fully as possible in English, in a language that isn’t native for me. This post is a punctilious translation of my poem in Russian, that was published before on the 10th of October, 2014. And I’m happy that now I can present you a really high-quality translation!

∼ ∼ ∼ ∼ ∼

Why do you crave my Autumn?
She is untameable and transparent.
She has few cheery days, and many dreary greys.
Her cold hand can’t enhearten with its touch.
Her pale cheeks never blush from sensual affections or lust.
Only empty endlessness lies behind Her pellucid blue eyes’ lids.
Her altar, a pedestal entitled ‘Eternity’, is seasoned with the ashes of the ordinary.

I met Her by chance one noisy summer day.
It looked like She loved me.
She passed away long ago, while Her residue remained within.
Why do you so crave my Autumn?

∼ ∼ ∼ ∼ ∼

Что в осени тебе моей?
Она дика и молчалива.
Немного в ней веселых дней
И много – серых и тоскливых.
Ее холодная рука
Не ободрит прикосновеньем,
И не зардеется щека
Желанья сладостным томленьем.
В глазах прозрачных голубых –
Лишь пустота и бесконечность.
Усыпан прахом дел земных
Алтарь – подножье слова ‘Вечность’

В один из шумных летних дней
Я с ней случайно повстречалась.
Похоже, нравилась я ей…
Она давно уже скончалась,
Но часть ее во мне осталась.
Что в осени тебе моей?

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

Maybe (Through the Looking-Glass)

Maybe… maybe it’s time to shout ‘Mayday!’
Maybe… maybe it’s time to break off your fake play!

I’m sick of beating these walls of morals!
Their tips are less droll than the Gregorian Chorales!

Maybe… Maybe… Maybe…
Please, Alice, please, stop to flee!

Maybe it’s time to step through the Looking-Glass.
Alice, I beg, show me your sass!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

a Refuge

please, let me to lay
on this cold granitic stone
between grey and grey.

please, let me to say –
I’m exhausted and alone
I feel total splay.

please, let me to flay
I’m ready to give a feast,
I’ll wait birds of prey.

please, let me to stay!
I found my latest refuge
between grey and grey…

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

a Rite

The Vermilion Moon… I lift up my arms.
Chandra Namaskar. My Saint Vitus’s dance.

My stream is smooth. My breath is deep.
I count pulse. I curve and slip.
Another circle… a bow… a leap…
My rite is done. It’s time to reap.

The Moon is glad. It smiles and winks.
It drips on sheets like bleeding inks…

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014