Mikhail Godov - Unquenchable thirst of love…

The theme of love and jealousy is old:
It goes back to Adam and Eve.
In every home this drama is perceived.
And victims grind by these millstones…

The jealous one himself is cause of torment
And even crown will not keep him still
Desdemona with no guilt was killed,
Though she was faithful to the great extent.

She closes the vicious circle of the love
Her name is written as the love's true sister.
But as her brother iron there glistered —
So many hands that love has stained with blood!

But no, of love I have another vision:
The one I love, I trust with no excision!

Love can't be jealous, as the passion can:
The passions puts the hidden traps
To which fall even those experienced
With words of Iago, don't lie, don't condemn!

Oh jealousy, you choose your prey from us
And our hearts are painful and so hurt,
You play the drum in rage, but now stop,
Don't hurt the feeling by absurd mistrust

The passion is the despot, so merciless
No tyranny, which can be more wayward
But love is balm, the therapy and ward
Of all the soul's wounds, of all the turbulence,

The Love is graceful, kind, but the most upheaval
Brings jealousy, much envy and much evil.

The love is free, such is its essence
When flows, even stones break:
The wall destroys and the defences:
No shield is left for me to take!

I wanted to erase her features
And to forget… But then my heart
Will ache and will cry out loud
Nostalgia, the ghostly creature!

I can't find help in the oblivion,
By which I tried (while it was trifle)
To hide the feeling, to forget… —
But I give up and here's my chest:

Well. Love is just a worthy rival
To end my life, so sad, so trivial.

Oh, can my affection be a sin
When deep in love I lose myself
No sinner is who duff and dumb
Who cannot love and cannot feel

Who laughs at highest words of love
Who dear lady's eyes dislikes
And lips of hers is not enjoying
Who doesn't know the love's folly

That one just lives in vain his life.
And I recall now and again
The Romeo and Juliette story
These children's love was so involving
And even death had brought them fame

I drink a toast to loving souls
Indifference is the greatest fault…

Yes. Cupid shoots so randomly, but sure
Defeating, dazzling everyone,
Love potion's easy to be done:
For youngster and for someone mature,

For nun, for gigolo, no matter
They all will suffer passion's pricks
But the love's suit… Here's nothing better:
And haute couture's extremely cheap!

Cupid, your genre is operetta.
You shoot the movies bright and splendid,
You are the favourite of all ladies:
Life's grey with you, and I don't flatter!

And I'm subject to passion too
I fell in love, so now I do…

To you, oh, ladies, whom I loved
All songs and sonnets're dedicated
You're muses who inspire all created
And Lord had sent me blessing from above.

Yes, I was dumb, then fire of affection
Revoked the answer in my soul
So Earth before the dawn, so still, it is just waiting
But with the first ray clamour will unroll

Since then the Love's my genius and judge
And beauty is my highest mentor
And soul of mine, the humble shelter
Is filled with feeling, I can't hide,

I sing the praise, but not in vain
Each line is warmed with loving flame!

Oh, that's indeed is a kind of torture
The bow touches vibrant chords…
The violinist's young, but each accord
Resounds like a voice of fortune.

And gently violin surrenders
And he is ardent, as a hun
And wise, just like the runes creator.
Soul, like a snail, went to the sun

And opens up towards the music
And, trembles like a singing violin,
The spell of music make her sing
She soared, clear and illusive

In glowing worlds, so high above
When filled with miracle of love…

These autumn flowers in vase:
Bright asters, roses, bunch of cranesbill…
I give respect to nature thus —
Which joins forms and author's will.

I make attempt in every phrase
To surface facets so precise,
That filigree would not entice
Won't be deceptive as the strase.

So that like diamond, perfect sense,
Was clear and concise, not flabby,
And sacred as the walls of abbey…
Oh Lord, give me talent and such strength

To vent the soul enchanted cry!
So lucid to all passing by…

I crave to know all people as the dearest ones
To realize the events inner wheels
To see effect and reason, evident and clear:
I want to be, more sapient and wise.

Absurd's the monster, scariest of all!
…And due to it men draw their swords —
Because of it all funeral and grief,
And people are more fierce the beasts!

And cry of woe is now in vain,
No word can ever reach their ears:
Cause now's deafness for our souls to tear!
Misunderstanding is the endless chain…

And I grew week before the locked front door…
But love had found the key so long ago!

There's time for everything and turn:
And summer follows the spring's route,
As night's successor, comes the dawn
And the ovary becomes the fruit.

The clocks tick on, and thus each moment,
Dictates us sequence of the lines.
And words are linked within the sonnet.
And generations grow and die.

Haste is the ghostly, bad mistake
And lingering is just a guilt.
And every failure and success:
As a pirouette on sandy brink

But breaking all the terms and frames,
Love definitely will come in May!

Love is a battle without mercy
Without tears of compassion.
Intrigues, snaring, fire of passion… —
Through all the times, in all the verses.

During the starry sleepless nights,
The serenades are sung for Her.
But under cloak the blade does blur
Blood flows as scarlet as the wine.

The Love, the treachery's strong ally
And such al luring as naiads
Seduces us to escapades
And passion's cup becomes so dry

With no regard to young and senior…
But happy is the one, who did surrender!