Hаldor Volcano






The Night


         (Translated by Alec Vagapov)



	

The dark-skinned  beauty of night
To the brim has filled the lagoon. 
You can see through the lace of the clouds
The resilient breast of the moon.



It is quiet freedom of solitude, 
You cannot tell friends from foes;
And all that you have is just memory -
Sweet apricots - those lips of yours



The nests are devoid of birds,
Destroyed by the wind"s act of violence.
Wild sorrow attends the place
To listen to songs of silence.



Our orphaned love is meandering
In the sleeping green fields of grass. 
In the wind, on the edge  of  the precipice,
Ringing poplars will cry for us.




December 31st, 2011.
02:34 am
Toronto, Canada