Sorcerer's Work
If all the morning became identical,
If all the night- long continue in a twilight...
If the soul is punished to live without dream,
Tell me, it's not called death of the poet...
If azure- eyes do not see to sky more, more
Inevitably, I will soon forget of heavens colour ...
Don't begin a white song my white swan, while
I know, it's sorcerer's work, he has not died -live...
Tsira Gogeshvili
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sorcerer-s-work/
