Synesthesia
Мы все придумали сами, даже того, кто придумал нас (с)/ Принц с принципами
Долго сомневалась, а надо ли нести на русское сообщество нерусское творчество, но все же...

Название: Antiutopia
Автор: Synesthesia
Язык: английский
Жанр: джен
Рейтинг: PG
Персонажи: те, кто потеряли души
Дискламация: не претендую


Behind the madmen cities,

Some see a hillock, fitting

For pitiful cloudgazers.

They're buried in the litters

Of sharpened shiny shards…

… and lost within the mazes.

Spellbound to be sitters

And lay the eggs of glitter,

That folk exists there, singing,

According to moon phases.

The captives of the spheres

Are tangled in king's laces

And nets of seedless dreaming,

Devouring plastic peaches

Of banal wishful thinking.

They only craved for living

Of blindly burning stars

And got those vacant faces,

Black holes within the eyes.

They scatter bitter praises:

"We thank our king for giving

And curse ourselves for taking.

With cruelty he's lavish,

So generous with teaching

But we just keep forgetting".



Behind the madmen cities,

You'll find those ever-sleeping,

Top-clients of dream makers

And slaves of instant wishing.



Название: Someone
Автор: Synesthesia
Язык: английский
Жанр: гет
Рейтинг: PG
Персонажи: Джарет/Сара
Примечания: песенное, ритм меняется


My soul has a nest on clouds.

So restless, never calm -

Perhaps, I miss some… one,

My feet are lost within the crowds

Walking through mass,

Like through high grass:

My listless glance still wanders,

Not meeting anyone…

Just chasing silly tiny wonders…

Such as sunbeams, for fun.



I'm dreamless: scary nothing.

Have I forgotten something

Or, possibly, someone,

My heart remembers,

Not my tongue?

My perplexed mind surrenders:

Why at the height of summer noon

I'm looking for the winter moon?

And where is my Beyond?



Behind the windowpane,

I hear the maples rustling,

And wistful winds whistling,

I harken to the orchestra of rain.

Cracking of twigs?

Or flapping of wings?

Feeling insane?

But I want… won't turn my world

To face that someone,

Who's always been my silent ward,

Afraid to see… no one.



Years keep rushing forward,

While I'm a child of backward.

And what about my whereabouts,

Neither above, nor underground?

I need to run…

So fast and far,

Faster and farther.

How much sand will it take to find

My special Someone from Beyond?

To solve the lacking puzzle?



My soul has a nest on clouds.

So restless, never calm -

Perhaps, I miss someone.


Название: Victims of the Victory
Автор: Synesthesia
Язык: английский
Жанр: гет
Рейтинг: PG
Персонажи: Джарет/Сара

The curves of faint lips mask sham,

Regrets are curtained with laughs.

When allies return to another realm,

The moon outshines latern lights.



Her fictitious kingdom's as great,

As deep as those fathomless nights,

Enough to avoid her own glance,

Reflected in his haunting eyes.



Rote days, roundbaout oubliettes,

Flat centuries nobody counts,

They're prisoners of lonely fates,

So close, yet so far like two stars.



Garnet wine in a crystalline glass,

Fallen dreams, drained of the blood,

Tunes are vain for she cannot dance

In the arms which never enchant.



Thus, she waits for the thirteenth hour

To confess in the lament of sighs,

"Pity, both of us have no power,

Power over the wilful hearts".


Хотелось бы также порекомендовать цикл одного автора. Вот он! И на русском.

@темы: Фанфикшен, Ссылки, Sarah, Jareth