Under the full Moon

(translation of Лученко Святослава "При повному Місяці")

The tremolo of lightings is distant and restrained. It wakes up somewhere on the bottom of its nature with inexpressive, but perceptible trembling. It’s not an alarm – it sounds more like growing feelings of hidden happiness. The sky shines in shreds between birch’s leaves. The leaves’ scent is a moistened and aromatic presentiment of thunderstorm. As much as the sky can sense a near crack of dawn, so a heart trembles in incomprehensible excitation, it’s agitated by unknown and unreachable feelings.
A thunder rumbles capriciously aloof or - as if approached in eloquent crescendo. And barely – barely, harmonically… in the thunder’s tone – has a drizzle begun the effortless counterpoint.
A symphony of night-like, or rather preceding dawn, surroundings is opened out, gets saturated in new colors of sound and fragrant palette.
You can hear, how softened in the distance attraction dissolves in the darkness. Its sound passes to nothing, but instantly regenerates itself in the new and loud echo of strong thunderer… The rain is more perceptible – it’s more like some green rustle, but not the rain, which caresses my ear softly. And at the same time, it calms slowly down and counterbalances me by the monotonous unchanging rhythm of falling drops.
It seems, like a tiny and such comfy birch-like-rainy, cock-crow’s world – as if some separate picture, created by a talented Master, that it is represented with velvet combinations of oil paints , intense semi-shades, depth of old wells, moistened fullness of mysterious lakes… And all around seems full as a circle or a pot in the kind Creator’s hands. And above all of these wonders are shines of the full Moon.
Whether it’s my little world got twisted around Moon with a thick ivy, inheriting its unchanging harmony, or it’s just a reflection of light, as if in some little mirror of the luster surface created by the rain, that miraculously laughs in reply to lightings...
I don’t know, where to search for the edge-end, and where – for beginning of fantastic reincarnation in echoing of those two combined worlds. In my heart they are interlaced and give a birth to the indescribable, quivering feeling of approaching of something beautiful, some effulgent inspiration and sense. I could add to it the whirlwind of ideas, which together with a free wind calls to an action. It’s a gladness of every-second-motion, an existence among effective, intoxicating and clean energy. The dialog of the full Moon and lightning is a reflection of my state of barely restrained enchanting spectacle of feelings, dreams, ardent and boundless splashes of consciousness of which lift my spirit by its waves up to peaks of all that it’s beautiful and light, that it would be desirable yet understood by my heart, mind and soul…
Almighty Good,
«Grant us a peace», reward us with Music of Your Universal Love, Your blooming Nature! Let tears be reincarnated into the drops of rain, let all of ardent and appealed to you words become as lightings; let hopes become voices of birds in sunrise, that glorify beauty and power of Your Creation!
The full Moon filled up the Universe with rains and rustles, songs and colors, secrecies and sincerities of veritable sense of which every pure soul drinks from... That sense fills the most secret nooks of heart, against my will, as though long-awaited moisture falls in soil: satiates and feeds. And the source is sprinted over the edge, giving me no power to lean against. I am left only with the acceptation of it, as a valuable drink had to be drunk with a smile and kiss… with gratitude…
My love,
You fill me up and cure, infuse and purify! Wash down my soul from the bitter taste of ash of old offenses! Fill me up with radiance the same way as the full Moon fills skies and forgive me my weakness and distrust…
‘Cause this is yours eternal power and glory...Amen.

7 August 2007

Iouri Lazirko
Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko