Trapped Wings
To Vladimir Nabokov
By Tatiana Pahlen

I fainted when the news came through,
stressed by the thunder;
your death called off our rendezvous,
Set on my calendar.

Entrusting pain of staying mute,
my urge in life had changed;
I aimed my brain in one pursuit
to leave behind my cage.

I dreamed I traveled to Montreux
Thrilled by plain desire
to throw more flames into your hearth
and kneel before "Pale Fire."

Your "Gift" shone through in every word
some rhymes kept jumping higher,
before "Lolita" shook the globe
Tongues wagging in bonfire.

An entomologist at heart,
I grieve we've never met;
Your life as an émigré echoed mine
my wings trapped in your net.

July 23, 2005

© 2005 Tatianyc. All Rights Reserved.


BACK TO POEM TRIBUTES