Hello, cuckoo by Lyubava Trofimova

Hello, grey-white cuckoo - messenger of all times,

The tender sound of my memory - light from outside,

Define the line between life and death, point-devise,

Open an eternal flight into the unearthly distance.

The green forest winds - the connecting  chain link.

The voice - the answer to how much longer I have to live.

The key is not lost, it is hidden in the distant seven hills,

Bird, fly, seek, forget your fear, please my heart do not  tear.

I know the well-trodden paths to the bright shrines,

There they teach us not to become attached to things.

This earthly thing in a short, silent loop nevertheless

Will turn to dust, disappear into sleepless darkness.

Is this terrain thing, cuckoo, mine? Tell straighly me...

Or space into heavenly no any your last limit.

The line between black and white  in my my notebook,

Turn off life to understand so much and look.

I once had a roof over my head and a floor,

Things, I parted with them with  difficulty labor

Life has torn me apart, abandoned grace,

In my heart – a nay  of the desire to possess.

Hello,greyish lost disconsolate soul,

 I do not sadly want  anything at all.

Let me go, see me off with  your voice,

Tear the last breath from my chest once…