Oh, don't you love your take -
  blue clouds
   over the light-blue hills
    stepping a little back,
       hovering over the world...

Well, this is Koktebel,
  the valley of blue rocks and hills,
    my tremulous and ardent love.

The clouds have played a wistful Saga
   turning from Angels 
     into miraculous birds
      up in the sleepy skies,
       ready to have the Night.

It's cold. It's very cold.
  I am alone 
    in this mysterious set

and my enormous feeling,
  as rhythmic as the waves
   will never tide...



May 24, 1998