Translated by Nataliya Ogienko
Hello,
my dear!
* * *
I am
writing you with the illegible handwriting of my doubts
on the
edge of silence, where the time with yellowed leaves
goes
down to the sea, the only one and defenseless
beginning
of my love to emptiness.
You are
throwing plane, like the horizon, pebbles, and they
don’t
slide on the soulless surface any more, but sink in the mute
fainting of loneliness. Here am I, thrown into the
sea,
going to
the bottom, no, I'm floating, and this flight into the green
darkness
illumines my soul with light.
* * *
Sea
gulls are sluggishly passing the border of summer, conquerors,
patricians,
they are destined to sit by the sea and see the prisoners -
tired
inhabitants of the earth.
* * *
Someone
was passing the eternity. I see - the lights are in the windows.
I
think, why not to look inside. And I
looked. And there - nobody.
* * *
I'm in a
hurry. I'm busy. I have no time.
If you
don’t have time, you don’t have the faith. If you
don’t
have the faith, you have nothing.
* * *
People
were proud and people were insolent. And nobody wanted
to
knuckle under anybody for the time being. But not their time came,
and they
not only knuckled, but they also skipped ahead those
who also didn’t want to knuckle under anyone
for the time being.
* * *
Once
upon a time there lived a brave warrior on the earth,
and no
one, except him, knew about it. And he was afraid
that
people can learn how brave he was.
So he
has lived all his life with fear.
* * *
If you
want to find your own way, bring all the roads into one.
Find a
point on the map of the world which doesn’t exist, and without delay
go to
the goal, without turning neither to the right nor to the left, and where
to turn,
if all the roads converged into one.
* * *
The
ladder held on to the clouds not so long. The wind blew,
the
ladder fell to the earth. The railroad appeared in such a way.
Centuries
passed, and the ladder is still dreaming to stand with
its
gigantic height, and, as in the old days, to reach
to the
clouds, where it’s so easy to breathe.
* * *
I can
see sometimes, how the eyes of the sunset is filling with blood, I can hear
sometimes,
how a woodpecker is making notches on the thick-skinned memory
of trees,
I can feel sometimes how life stops.
The
heart of the time, I don’t ask you where you are. I can see you,
I can
hear you, I feel you.
* * *
How to
save a face, if botox and dysport can’t help?
Help,
and even how much help. But the Internet appeared
in every
house, and it, unlike cockroaches, which fed
what was
left, and which went out of our houses,
eats what
it has. Moreover, it crawls on the faces of
politicians
and eats their botox and dysport. Who has advised
the Internet
unceremoniously rob the faces of politicians?
Is the
time really so shameless that allows in front of
the eyes
of mankind to encroach the face of the untouchables?
Or
perhaps, the faces outdated and remained in those houses
where
once the cockroaches lived?
* * *
Is it
possible to comprehend the incomprehensible? It’s possible. It requires
silence
- not slavish and unquestioning, but
free and inspired. But there is
a war that kills not only people, but the
silence. In the world, where there is
little
light and a lot of despair, it’s hard to find a ladder of Jacob, on which
angels
go up and down. They also have fears, but angels are afraid not for their
lives,
but for
ours. But what they can do, if the spiritual world is captured by the material
world.
Angels
have no choice, and they are going to heaven. How to return them to the earth?
We must
stop fighting, hating and thinking that everything around belongs
only to
the favorite ones.
* * *
The war
is dying with every killed man. The wounded death doesn’t call
for
help. Who to call? Only people are around. The war, who invented you?
Only
people.
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