Da un’eternità

Four elements, five senses, seven planets, and nine heavens. The soul and the heart of the entire world in the middle of nowhere. Water, air, wind, and fire transcend all existence, and make the pre-eternity evident in the mirror of the post-eternity.

All of a sudden, I can hear silent voices, I notice a ray that illuminates the gloomy firmament, smell the sweet odour of flowers, taste the bitterness of loneliness and almost touch infinity. The sun sets up, the moon is rising. Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter light candles for a forlorn vagrant. My flesh and bones and brains become a new entity. Boiling blood runs through my veins, colours my skin in amaranth red.

I’m seeking shelter for salvation, trying to escape from nothingness, looking for understanding and explanation. The stars shine upon the darkness, sweeping the sand from my path. I’m like a particle of dust drifting around in a world of dualities searching for passion, contentment and sobriety. And I find no rest.

Sicut lilium inter spinas

From Before the Day of My Birth

Is it difficult to reach the place you want to go to? How long does it take to achieve your indefinite aim? How far is it to the abode of the blessed? Is there someone who will help you in times of troubles?

They told me I’m a traveller from before the day of my birth. I have to move on till I grow old, till I stumble and fall, worn out and exhausted – up and down, back and forth, over mountains and seas, across deserts and meadows. You cannot stand still, they say. And I believe them.

There is no sky. Steppes and hills, and forests. The town is small. The streets are narrow. They all are walled by wooden buildings with thatched roofs. Dusk and moonlight, and silence. No one there.

The storm is rolling in from the north. The wind is tender. It rubs branches together over sinister surfaces of the river flowing silently somewhere in the dark. The fields lay abandoned, the crops are unharvested. Apricot, cherry and apple trees. Rotten fruits on the ground.

The land of the dead – and I don’t know why I’m here.

Sicut lilium inter spinas


Март. После морозной зимы. Воздух пахнет весною. Ты сидишь под деревьями на лавке возле реки, а на тебя вдруг с небес, с невероятных божественных высот льется теплый, ласковый, животворящий свет. Ты поднимаешь голову навстречу солнцу, жмуришься, улыбаешься, дышишь полной грудью — и тебе так хорошо, легко и невесомо как бывает только непосредственно после близости с любимым человеком.

Это та блаженная радость, которую я испытываю по отношению к мужу. Люблю, люблю, люблю.