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…The threats of vision stopped, view lost its ends
Dissolved in shouts for the needed Grave
That time, when my stressed psyche invoked again
Back to my consciousness, that for me then
To be a here-man. And here I am. – Think,
Else, what I can say is that, when my old mind,
Impressed a lot, went wondering alone
Of that if ever could be right to grow
Our seductive «Carny’s theme» at all, —
If e’er we’d find a way to bury doubts
(Oh, what a wisest thought!) «bout Death of War,
So it can’t rise again, per rotten chance; —
To this, I felt, however, but a nerve
Of Human inspiration, – dreaming then
Of sage and dispute to be back again.

    (08.05.2014, Moscow —
    01.08.2014, dacha
    by S. Posad)

The Red Wood

The sun of this Spring awoke me,
With the Voice from the Sleep it rose,
From the Doubt of Thought, it took me
Into world, where the Red Truth grows.

«How often you’ve had the Red Day?» —
That mystery teller have led; —
«The word to be fair on your eye-way,
By magus the Nature be spread.»

Dumb, I have stepped into wood mine;
How felt I to see that all new:
The birches not white! – the red line
Mystify the strange poetic view.

How could‘ve that happen, oh, tell me? —
Is’t a sign of Red Horse? Skye cries?[66 - Red Horse – apocalyptic image from Matth. 6: 4;]
Like the shades, blood with o’erwhelming,
Those Life’s witnesses stands and sighs.

Human mind – fatalist-dreamer!
All the fancies in time, behold,
Paints the things – fairer to grimmer, —
All embodied in real world.

No image stays off-the-Matter,
Not a map that poein[67 - The proverb «poein» [to poeticize] in old Greek means «to create».], but Life;
On this border, the Fate ne’er flatter
With that Polis can use for strife.

Voice had gone… I felt quite awkward.
These red stems, kind of prophecy…
Yet I’ve dreamt, what if some Ode-word,
Incarnated, its author could sее.

    (12.05.2014 – 20.05.2014
    dacha, by Sergiev Posad)

Nike and Her Head

Oh, ????! Time though did beheaded you; —

They dies, day new, to break one of your wings: —

«Who’s right? who won the Woe-War?"… Not Marce;

And none is to survive in slaves of his…

Who is to win upon th’Achiles’ anarchism?[68 - In this verse, I’d like to remind you that of why Achiles, a bloodiest hero, is the only personage, amongst all of his friends the Athenians, who was honored to be placed on the Eagean Islands, after his death: if you remember, he’s a one, never looking for the War and the fighting, right from the start; a peacefulest athletic character a nymphan, unlikely to all others, he had no purport and no desire to war at all, surely nor like Menelai the revenger, neither like Odysseus the profit searcher; Achiles the Marmedonian King kept the policy of neutralism on his Islands, and this kind of blissfulness I’ve mentioned to be a part of me-versed vision of a noble Aegenean of his past and his future, both.]

The Heaven’s laissez-fair star-gaze in grass…

But barbar is that not, who goes so far

To ask the Stix ’gainst Islands’ neutralism? —

Th’Eagean grasp? – Hell looking for, you are

A little plebe with giant sword, calling for Death!

Hell do perverse not the ’light of Lucifer,

Where free from cares a Victor drink Love’s breath.

Where little winged goddess’ skye head

Wedds thoughts of Poet and Atlet for strength.[69 - "…And he felt in love with the mind of Patrocles»; – Pindar is the first, who emphasized this sort of ideal truth, by looking into the aspects of healthy men’s friendship with the clean, unpervert eye, yet before Aristotle explained it so in his treatises.]

    (24.04.2015 – 06.05.2015;
    dacha by S. Posad)

The Meditative

/To Olga Barre,
On her very Day,
Also to that thought of hers for
The 100th Birthday of Don Juan Mattus./