(Так выглядит наша совместная работа на чужом языке)

One should not bind real life to a poetic concept. Yet, we hope that what is written will not be any worse or fainter for it.
'We do not choose those we love, nor those we admire, and even less do we have power over whether we will be loved in return.'
— Ring of Fire, Mara Wulf."

Joint work.
Elena Minnakhmetova: https://poeziya.ru/u/26684/

A line of moments, neatly laid,
Cuts through the mundane feelings,
Where gratitude’s a debt unpaid
For all that won’t have dealings:

The curves of beauty, pure and bright,
The flight of palms in fervor,
The night’s ecstatic, tender light
Whispers through the leaves’ fervor.

The sparkle in the eyes, the dark,
A phone that’s turned to silence,
A fire of dreams that leaves a mark,
A ruthless clock’s defiance.

A star still gleams in heights above,
Before the dawn’s sweet breaking,
It fades within a wave of love
In summer’s heart, awaking.

Let’s keep, in earthly eternity,
What’s unknown to those we cherish,
In life, in faith, I stand with thee,
A sacred sign, we nourish.

For timid words that find their voice,
So fragile, yet so tender,
For knowing you won’t make the choice
To leave, and time won’t render.

For fleeting meetings, brief and sweet,
I give my thanks anew,
For chances held that make us meet,
A moment’s bliss, we rue.

The march of time is merciless,
Days melt like candles’ glow,
With God’s desire, we find our bliss,
In laughter, we bestow.

A light that’s fed by hope’s embrace,
The day warms every heart,
“I’m here, you’re there,” in time and space,
The unreal starts to part.

(Перевод Чат GPT)