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Loginov Ilya. Fall asleep every day, but on which night is late  
Loginov Ilya.
Fall asleep every day, but on which night is late

393 USD

 
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Я не верю в красную нить судьбы, и дожди, идущие в январе

Loginov Ilya. Я не верю в красную нить судьбы, и дожди, идущие в январе


I do not believe in the red thread of fate, and the rains coming in January.
in the throat, a lump of bitter - "if". if only you were mine.
if I had been born in the twentieth century, the time of kings and iron armor,
I would challenge the whole damned world, heaven and earth, Eden and hell.
you could believe my poems, and the words that ring in your ears with blood, -
"I'll never give you up to anyone," and "you know, my soul hurts like hell."
I was born in the twenty-first, tired age. I have a through hole in my chest.
I don't see flowers or lights in my dreams, just the white powder of a dry Blizzard.
the snow creaks under my feet, my North is quiet. it doesn't matter how many roads lead,
I could only find one, the one that would lead right to your doorstep.
everything about you is inappropriate, but so easy. the warm copper of Golden braids flows.
I just need to touch you with my hand and curl up at your feet like a faithful dog.
you are from the sun, and it seems from the sand, woven from thin, ringing strings,
celestial mountains and coastal rocks, blue-winged and clear-eyed moons.
everything in me is frost, damp fog, hundreds of book pages, and tobacco smoke.
I didn't know what it was to go crazy. I didn't know - that means I was empty.
you have live dragon blood in your veins, and I have a gray metal alloy in my veins.
the one in heaven who distributes love, this time was wrong, so was wrong.
I do not believe in fairy tales, I do not believe in dreams, we are from different latitudes of the earth.
I did not see the wings of the colored spring, everything in me is brittle and prickly ice.
only the red thread cuts into the hand. twenty-third cold January.
this is nonsense. and this can't be happening. but raindrops fall on the ground.

Loginov Ilya. Я не верю в красную нить судьбы, и дожди, идущие в январе
canvas/oil 30cm x 40cm 2019
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Price 269 USD

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269
2020.03.11


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Loginov Ilya.
...For you once told - I you fell in love
Loginov Ilya. ...For you once told - I you fell in love
Loginov Ilya.
Your the latter tenderness in this dark night...
Loginov Ilya. Your the latter tenderness in this dark night...
Loginov Ilya.
"rape of Europe"
Loginov Ilya. "rape of Europe"
Loginov Ilya.
"On a clean canvas, I'll start drawing you with dark paint... "
Loginov Ilya. "On a clean canvas, I'll start drawing you with dark paint... "
Loginov Ilya.
Я не верю в красную нить судьбы, и дожди, идущие в январе
Loginov Ilya. Я не верю в красную нить судьбы, и дожди, идущие в январе
Loginov Ilya.
I looked into her eyes. Watched until she took a step
Loginov Ilya. I looked into her eyes. Watched until she took a step

 
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