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Dream

Poem by Andrey Nevezensky



Andrey Nevezensky Andrey Nevezenskiy - well known Russian poet and bard. Using the nickname Nevezensky, Andrey writes poems dedicated to combative women who inspire him and whom he consider as his combative Muses.






Русская версия

Two women wrestle
Artwork by "Wildebeest"


To sumoists
Veronika Kozlovskaya
and Olesya Kovalenko


Once more a battle of mighty ladies
Is coming in my night dreams -
They are in the dread poses,
Crouched and ready for jumping.

They appear as a picture of health,
Condensed from the eternal Femininity
In order to lash each other
In toe-to-toe barefoot battle.

Bleary-eyed I am watching
Through drowsiness of the fatigue
How two virgins dressed in white
Are fiercely battling over me.

They are running as waves,
Converging as two bubbled rivers,
Rapid, powerful and adroit
Easily moving heavy blocks.

A wave collides another wave,
A power is smashed over a power.
I am there a rickety canoe
Attempting to overcome a storm.

Suddenly, a different apparition
Is swinging in my blurry mind –
Two powerful stripped giantesses
Engaged on a wild beach.

They’ve locked in combat unarmed
Chosen hand-to-hand fight,
They don’t need a judge either -
Sea surf is their referee.

They are inflexible like rocks,
They are wrestling silently –
Their legs are ingrown as columns
Into darkness of coastal stones.

They are battling leisurely,
They’re full of intransigence…
By the edge of a dark bay,
In front of the full night Moon…

Dark shadows are flattering
From strained arms and legs,
From body interlacing,
From firmly squeezed backs.

Spherical and massive
They are hot like cannon balls.
Two buxom and exciting figures
Are moving in the dismal night.

Their contours are undulating,
Their bodies are smooth and white…
And the gloomy stony beach
Reflects foamy billows…

These struggling ladies personify
Essence of the female element –
Its temper, ardor and strength
As well as desires of possession…

Their tireless bitter grappling
Bewitches me as a miracle
While I am endlessly swimming
Toward mighty women’s hugs.



Anrey Nevezensky



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