Bezmelnitsin's Gallery :: Denis Bezmelnitsin : "Barbados. Conset Bay"

Denis Bezmelnitsin

Barbados. Conset Bay
At evening hour, when seagulls cry,
And welcome raven of the night;
They cry so frankly and sincerely,
While lasts this sunset, ere
This song to be dispelled in myriads
Of moths and lightning bugs.

These lucid clouds - sounds of flute,
When ocean and the sky are mute, -
Faint veil of greyish-rose,
And from abode of sleep a moon arose.
Her skiff doth drift on sunset brine
Like pale, half-swooning melody...
And angel of the vesper star,
In linen vest, plays a guitar, -
The tuneful music of departing day
Unto the cave of shades to be reborn again.
There is a tale: When sun dipped in the chasm of sea
Of night, he doth approach the throne of Him,
Whose Name is Lord of everything.
Then sun bespeaks to God and saith,
"May I arise, do let me raise?"
And Lord respondeth to diurnal eye,
"You may, the gates of East are open, rise!"
But once, as Holy Writ narrate,
When sun in western brine will fade,
Like keel on brim of vision disappear;
Then before the Lord he will appear,
And prostrate... But God will order, "Yet, retrace!
Flee back whence thou came'st!"
And sun shall rise from western side,
Then know, that 'tis the end of times.

O light, ye dye the waves into vermeil,
A song of swan - the song of dying day... But nay,
'Twill vanish not, but in the soul, in poet's heart
Forever will resound this sunset chant.

May 2017