Prayer
as if I was unlimitedly bewitched ,
the sound was the model I have reached.
The sound descends unseen, with double wings
for daily pain to enlighten to feelings,.
as if a ghost in fiery trembling stiring
give me a chance today for prayers hearings.
And a sleeping one stretches muscles with reliefe
through light of air to flying streams of wander,
he is in there becouse of his beliefe,
as his response which climbs and falls under.
We are stretching hands of ours,
what a sound, that pressing hour,
like a mystical Maelstrom?
That s‘ a cave, the time of Plato,
what unseen pichicatto
throws the figure for the flight?
We are very nervous praying:
blessing son for his transferring
to the kingdom of the sky!
Oh, authority of sound,
here it is the battleground,
take the praer against the lie.
Stretches thoughts and smiles, starting,
Make our bodies smartly darting,
like a stream of meteors.
The questions more, the answer more!
That is near- heaven kliros,
silver sounds and papyrus
of impersonal Beginning
for the damage to restore.
Your soul and your reason,
no – unfortunate provision,
divination – is it so?
Oh, the sound of heavenss proud.
That a midnight ragweed cloud
Give us chance of your correction,
for the Godman resurrection
that triumfatory had swore!
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Good luck and my best regards,
Evelyne
Эля Эм 06.03.2004 16:33 Заявить о нарушении
Thank you very much for your cordial encouraging message! Contemporary poetry is really suffering from the lack of romanticism and esoterics. After Gothic gnosiology and delicate cosmic pre-feelings we need new spiritual shelters. But moreover we need an echo, metaphoric response, and friendly support! I am deeply impressed by our common appreciation of Edgar Poe’s epoch!
Sincerely yours, Alexander.
Аргутинский-Долгорукий А.И. 07.03.2004 23:01 Заявить о нарушении