Already Evening, Already Winter
It’s already evening, and winter’s here,
Wolves have started howling outside.
My throat is sour from the wine,
Books have fallen off the shelves,
There was a waltz and bell peals,
The songs made my voice hoarse,
Toothmarks all around,
A familiar name on the gravestone,
But just like many years ago,
As in the darkness of past lives
My lonely parade…
But the evening grows more capricious.
Originally published in Russian: Enmerkar.com
a leaf washed by rain has grown sad: the time of parting is approaching… he leaves, saying in farewell: goodbye! I loved you all… he will fly away following the birds into the distance, turning into a bright butterfly at the end. And in the morning, over the first snow, the sadness of late autumn will lie… but do not be sad, dear friend: leaves do not say goodbye forever! They are granted to be reborn in spring – every year the circle is closed… and so are we… at our appointed hour, tearing away from the mother-branch, we will fly with the wind into the distance at dawn, the world will remain… only without us… having passed through the spiral of a full circle, having received the lessons of cosmos, we will return – the deadlines have been assigned, peering into the unknown for a moment…
It’s easy to walk a well-trodden path…
To fly and fall is generally more difficult…
The best way is to find a friend,
So that the road is more fun!…
Gradually tiring me, tormenting my soul
Obedient days drift back and forth.
Illuminated by lonely silence
The tangled line of fate… is not visible.
Where to direct, where to stop?
The road of days draws me.
The disdain of love songs torments the soul…
Only the beast sitting inside me demands battle.
To move forward, traversing paths without discernment,
But who will tell me where my path is among them?
Only the stones under the water, erasing my soles, will show the way… driven by the current.
Mage.
The sage sat, wisely gazing at life,
He was endowed with immense power.
He knew the age. His path was thorny and heavy..
But he overcame everything, and his mind became like light.
Directing his crystal mind,
He made the heavens tremble
And the very Baphomet parted with respect,
Bowing before his feet
His mighty and vile horns.
And the female visage of the stream accepted within itself
That spark, which is called creation, like a seed…
The sacred moment!
And in that very second, a child was born on Earth…
Everything froze… Nature fell into stillness at that very moment,
Only the Aesir interrupted with their rejoicing,
Wondering at that wisdom and unearthly Power.
But even the gods were bewildered,
When they learned that for the child
They were merely the first step,
When he took his first step
With his bare little foot.
And it did not occur to them to guess,
With their Divine mind,
That the Son of the Creator was born a human,
Having known wisdom and Power and tranquility.
The sage sat calmly, impartially
Gazing at the bustling people.
His soul shone like fire in that moment…
He knew that the Light was lit!
A flock of crows flew by,
the dull sheen of black wings is kept.
I would like to rise to the sky,
not to melt in mustard smoke.
I would like in a gray mist above the abyss,
to dart, to race, to breathe in the world,
and to fall on the edge of the forest,
to sprout as a flower, or something.
Yes, as grass, or a thorny bush,
that lives under the cold snow,
and then, hoarsely swallowing autumn,
to leave in the sky with falling leaves.
Together with the wind to pass over the world,
and to fall on the native threshold,
and perhaps to be burned,
by smoke, again … a cloud, but in its time.
Very beautiful poems!! Thank you!
He was flying around me, not wanting to leave until I wrote it down. I don’t know who he is. I think the one he is intended for will recognize it…
Through the years, kilometers of distance
You have traversed a thousand roads,
Not hearing the sweet music of confessions
Exchanging them for dust, wind, and fate.
You left an angel on the shoulder of your beloved
Many hundreds of years ago
You went into the fog, frost, and hoarfrost,
And the January snowfall covered your tracks…
… Now the world is known, all words are spoken
And lives have been lived, faces forgotten.
Only the angel on the shoulder of the beloved sometimes
Calls to where there is no strength to turn back…
In thick notebook with uneven handwriting
Fragments of verses and the half-resonance of choruses –
Do not result in a linear outline
And the thread is lost and the dust flies under the moan of the wind.
And you remember stations as salvation
And the clatter of wheels, black road in the ice
And cannot calm the confusion in My Soul…
But I walk. I am still walking.
Now all codes are deciphered
All those who lived between the lines,
And the wasted years were not in vain
Let it brush silver against the temples.
We learned the traces on the road
The rain and snow did not dare to cover them,
You will pass! – Our Gods say
And of course you will see me!
You will spread your crumpled wings
You will throw off the burden of past days,
You know – the fairy tale will become a reality!
The fire burns even stronger!
In a solitary cell with a view of the abyss
You will turn into a cloud in white garments,
By a beam of sunshine – a golden thread
You will fly to me, forever leaving…
Most Honorable Loki,
You deftly twisted my lines…
……………………………
Behind the glass. Eternal cold and eternal fire
In the eternal battle they intertwine again.
Do not touch me with your sharp blade!
The blood in your chest is boiling.
You hurry. Move forward.
Move back. Move like a knight.
How will you resolve inconsistencies?
With hot ice or cold fire?
Time passes and everything is at the beginning
All dreams are gone, and the cabin is filled
Thoughts that have passed have rotted in the gloom
And the bottom of the abyss is covered with starry longing.
How much I could say in farewell
My rough hands are filled with longing
With the waves of swampy moss on the plain
I will lay out the word from bright darkness
Where will my gaze remain, in which sky??
Where will the cries drown out, having repented of pain
I will probably forget to say goodbye to myself
And the call of memory will hear oblivion.
The light of stars and the music of spheres
Fly to you through dreams
In a mad dance merging
With myriads of bright lights
Covering the velvet night
I play with you
Forgetting myself…
Enmerkar! Your articles are good, but the poems just make my cheeks ache from laughing!))) I’m giving you a box filled with sparkling irony, catch it! And don’t waste it! Cheers to you!
No, please don’t listen to me. I won’t tell the truth either tomorrow or now. It’s better to close your ears tighter and do what needs to be done, what is just right. Don’t look into my eyes – you won’t find answers there. I only know the wisdom of clichés, established truths, standard clichés and routine advice, but you didn’t come for that. You don’t need them. And please don’t accidentally or intentionally touch me. I, you know, shock easily. And don’t throw a silent, sad look at me. You are not needed. I’m leaving and won’t return.
I want to be heard by you
My life, my joy, and pain
Are not always expressible in words –
Only in soundless sometimes
Why should I not leave you?
Not to fall into eternal shadow?
How to tie and send feelings
Into the day before yesterday and the dead day?
I saw God at the very deep bottom,
At the very steep cliff before the black night,
I saw God in that very last dream,
Which could not predict anything for me anymore.
He was the Silence, penetrating all around,
An exhausted old woman living her last evening,
A child’s smile and a caress of loved hands.
He was the Emptiness, which had nothing to touch.
I saw God in the coolness of forest paths,
In the misty magic of mountains at dawn,
He was the stream of spring water at my feet
And that beacon, which illuminates the Path for us in the dark..