Порфира - лучший саван (с)
You are standing half-turned near me, your bosom and your hand are visible to me. My mother bans you to approach and it's temptation to insult you. No, it's useless to close my eyes, she breaths, she chases me, the storm is approaching, I feel. My glance is burning on your cheek and trembling is runnung on my tremoring hand... A rond of your fire is getting wider for me - and you are looking at me even not looking. Heavy fire enveloped by ash - it's your not looking, your slipping glance. No! This black blood will not be stopped even by meeting, even by love.