Русский паркур / Russian parkour

Material thoughts,
Words hurt more than swords,
Irrational things
Between myself and me.

I boil and smolder

At someone’s cold shoulder,
Or I get a chill:
Indifference kills.

I’ll shave off my hair

And shout ‘hurray’.
I’ll hunt the ideal,
My aim is unreal.

I’ll go for a run

To Petersburg sun.
I’ll reach the unknown,
I’ll dial a phone,

‘Mount Athos, over!’

I’m a restless rover.
I puzzle my friends,
But frankly, who cares?

An innate unrest

That won’t be suppressed.
An urge to connect
To world architect.

In my pocket lies

A snuffbox of lines;
Snapped in my smile —
A roll-up of rhymes.

Шахматисты

Игра начинается прежде,
Чем пешки ринутся в бой:
Лишь тот не будет повержен,
Кто верх возьмёт над собой.

Приветственное рукопожатие —