The black cat

Ира НИКОЛАЕВА | Поэзия

The black cat

The black cat since the world creation
seems like bringing you misfortune.
He enjoys the men`s reaction,
like a hellboy he is watching.
Crossing roads of passer-byes,
quickly makes them turn around.
No one knows- the hexen hides
under skin as black as ground.
Hexen, who in times of old
Came to end in fire heat,
and since then his restless soul
finds the cat a proper sheet.
This black cat knows many secrets,
many mysteries and charms.
but they see him as they see cats —
no one knows who does he palm.

Birch Clothes

The dress of birch was fallen down,
the rowdy-wind threw leaves on ground.
The autumn- she was a go-between —
burned from the shame and cursed the wind.
The birch, now dressed in shreds and patches,
Has leaned her head to wait with patience,
Because the yule-tide promised her
A present- white and cozy fur.
What promised spring – the splendid earrings
And virid-coloured fancy sundress,
But now her boughs without wearings
Touches rowdy-wind despite her shyness.

About the author:

Irina Nikolaeva (Irina Shemetkova), was born in 1976 in Budapest, Hungary, into a family of military doctors. Her father`s service area streched from the garrisons of Kazakhstan to the Extreme North and Ryazan.

Irina graduated with a gold medal from a high school in the town of Tiksi-3, which is situated on the bank of the Arctic Ocean. Later she was an alumna of the Sechenov Moscow Medical Academy, graduating with honors. She currently lives in Moscow, practicing writing and housekeeping.

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