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Dying…Умирая…

Slow steps were bringing a man to the top of this endless staircase…

The flaps of a grey dirty cloak slid along black stones scaring away alarmed mice…

He had something to say and something to think about during this coming wonderful night…

The deaf moaning of the booming wind was reachable from behind high stones covered in green mould after each step he took…

A thousand-year sigh and regret were hidden inside these stones which turned black from sweat and blood…

There was always enough time for them to die…

Those who are alive like to stand beside a coffin and throw a handful of brown soil – tired of ashes and blood — into a grave…

A wish to die was growing to please inventive human eyes…

And even now one could smell fires burning somewhere near…

As though the hands of those who were burning in these fires were pulling him down…

With every step he made it seemed that the tower was rocking more and more, and the feet were stepping harder and harder…

It seemed like the angels in the sky have stopped looking at the agony of human existence a long time ago…

Dressed in sacred clothes the walking evil was spreading the word of God while stepping on a baby’s throat…

Fields of wheat were taking ashes of those who died and giving birth to a heavy ear of golden seeds in return to make up for the future deaths…

Human gods wished to be worshipped for people would not die once they were born…

The blood-stained veil of the fog kept shutting his eyes when making a further step to the top of this endless strange staircase…

The stair-well was making him feel dizzy and his grey hair was waving from under his dirty green hood…

         His pace was becoming heavier and his cross was cutting into his neck worn out from age-old patience…

Nightmares were beginning to pursue him with infernal flame where his soul seemed to smoulder…

Breathing heavily the stranger touched a rough stone on this never-ending wall and when he shut his eyes the stranger saw her green eyes and that fluffy Irish hair…

He loved her. He enjoyed her body and her white face without end when talking to her for a long time after she was gone…

Her understanding calling gaze looking from the past warmed him up again. And having his wet eyes open he thanked the Creator for calling such fortune on him once again…

Faith which he gained at the start of his journey did not let him die among his likes…

Her love has relieved his sufferings after this faith died…

His lackluster eyes plunged into the shadow of the arrived millennium….

 

 

Избранное

Souls of those in love will not die when they free themselves from the bodies they were born with…

Through the darkness of fog and lightning brought by evil looks…

This is a flight into the night’s depth — towards the coming daylight and blissful love…

Wind and snow only kindle the flame of desires…

Clouds part and with a deep breath earth lets you go. So you vanish in the bliss of height and soaring of a new thought…

It feels even better above the clouds and the eternal rays of the mighty sun boiling with its plasma keep you warm…

Now you should hold on and slowly soar to prevent the earth from attracting fleeting thoughts to the dusty trampled road… 

Sun rays will cover you with gold of gods…

Everything looks light and fresh from such a summit of spirit…

It seems like everything around you should be beautiful, fair and natural…

And now you shine together like a rainbow…

There is nothing higher than the sky and your flying love…

Your strong hands and the thrilling look of her face can even make death happy…

The ineradicable servility of grey days does not armor our dreams with lead any longer…

Continue to love…

Your blissful amorous hands will turn into wings and one day they will touch these ever floating clouds…

Dance the dance of love…

And the Greek gods will admire you…

Cherish love and do not fear strange meaningless eyes…

The flame of love is lit and you are glowing with the charm of the Divine Providence…

         Admire the sun of your love and float…

Everything unique and new will exist as long as your hearts possess passion and love…

Your shadows have probably remained down there pressing themselves to wet worldly rocks…

It is blissful to be beside the beloved eyes from which you cannot tear yourself any more…

It feels so good around…

You can only hear the voices of your naked bodies…

Transparent clouds cannot hide these surprisingly ardent bodies that you adore…

Calm and sensual contemplation…

Worshiping the touches of open love…

But the body is short-lived once it has been exposed to the young adoration of love… When it dies the soul will rise forever so you can smoothly flow into this amazing eternity…

         Again in love and again together, forever…

Смерть сделает нас равными

Она не страшна, она прекрасна и добра, не как люди…

Она относится ко всем с почтением и вниманием, не как люди…

Она украшает вечную гармонию Создателя, не как люди…

Она не оскорбляет умерших и их могилы, не как люди…

Она внимательна и учтива ко всем, не как люди….

Она любит бедных и богатых, не как люди…

Она будет ждать, и верить, не как люди…

Она  принимает праведников первой, не как люди…

Она избавляет детей от страданий, не как люди…

Она не может обманывать,  как люди…

Она не развяжет войн, как люди…

Она не перепишет историю, как люди…

Она не истребит целый народ, как люди…

Она не совершит  кровавую революцию, как люди…

Она не изменит законов, как люди…

Смерть сделает нас равными…не как люди…

Смерть одна будет любить тебя…не как люди….

 

 

 

Тайна

Мелодии, рассыпанные как листья…

Они всегда прекрасны…

Эти мелодии листьев  ветер разносит…

Только среди влюблённых…

Разгаданный шёпот и дыхание листьев…

Которые не умирают…

 Выше земной любви только могилы влюблённых…

 И эти листья на них….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Я наша страсть

Я ищу тот блаженный сизый дым, в который ушла моя юность…

Я ищу это большеглазое знакомое лицо, с пунцовыми губами…

Я снова хочу это сильное тело и упругий живот…

Я брожу в оставшихся годах и не нахожу  дороги…

Я умираю каждый вечер и утро…

Я надрываю ослабшую душу и не вижу дня…

Я видение, с раздевающими очертаниями жадных фантазий…

Я угасаю и радостно поднимаю глаза к последнему избавляющему закату….

Я хочу пройти сквозь эти багряные краски и исчезнуть…

Я ищущая пристанище,  телесная плоть…

Я борюсь с воспалённым охлаждающим мозгом…

Я тело…

Я страсть…

Я твоё наслаждение…

Я, Сладкая женщина….

 

 

 

 

 

Течение улицы

Уличные потоки бороздят наши глаза чувства и мысли…

Они напоминают о течении времен…

И наши шаги в нём стучат созерцателем этого мира…

Борозды следов машин и наших шагов…

Стук минут нашего дыхания…

Стук часов нашего желания…

Стук  дня и занавес тихого летнего вечера…

Усталость и радость рук….

Вечер тишины…

Взлёт звезды…

Цветение…

Грусть осени…

Радость слияния с белым снегом…

Когда нет плохого…

Когда легко…

Когда понимаешь…

Что ты вода…

Без грусти и боли…

Солнечный блик…

Без тени сомнений…

Что всё не зря…

Всё радость…

Всё пройдёт…

Под твою грустную улыбку….

Под твои глаза…

Похожими на планеты…

Которые не умирают….

Никогда. ….

 

 

Signs of destiny

You are either the flying destiny itself or the forgotten roadside of life…

You are either like a tree from roots to top or a rootless house plant…

Your eyes are either diamonds with kind intensity or grey stones from the road…

Your body is either like an ocean breeze or a miry harbor…

Your arms are either like sensual wings or sticky mud…

Your thoughts are either like breakers or shapeless clay…

Your steps are either like the spring wind’s rustle or field slush in autumn…

Your acts are either like monsoons in a desert or biting wicked knocking over wind …

Your love is like a clean brook or a dirty neglected well…

Your world is a wonderful May palace made of pink petals or useless dust…

Your face is either an emerald crown or a withered tree that lost its leaves for ever…

 

Мелодии человеческих тайн

Тайна нашего рождения…

Тайна нашей радости…

Тайна нашей любви…

Тайна нашей горечи…

Тайна нашей жизни…

Тайна нашей смерти…

В узорах небесных мелодий….

Drops floating above earth

We are able to examine the face of thoughtlessly marching blind crowd through them…

The world is made out of colors that we do not notice when living in such crowd…

The veil of floating sounds descending from the immense sky…

A fountain of rarely beautiful red and blue drops of the falling rain…

They pass through us…

When we die we see them and they look like these bright drops but they never fall down. They float without touching earth…

Earth cannot absorb them since it is just a temporary refuge for the living people who are mortal…

These are the Creator’s drops and they are eternal messengers from other worlds…

When we die we shall turn into them and also float without touching the dusty earth and without wetting its perishable ashes.

We shall just cry out weakly being born on earth and dying on it,

Our cry cloaked in diverse nerves of the doomed like a temporary whisper will remain unnoticed in the sheer mist of these floating purity drops in the rational milky space surrounding us.

There is no room for the living in it since the living cannot always love all those around them and close by…

People are so changeable and cruel when love towards everything and everybody nearby goes away, if love only ever calls on them during this short instant between the moans of birth and those of death…

And somewhere these drops will turn into a miraculous fountain of the eternity lotus flower which only the Creator is destined to see in its full beauty…