Philosophy of Nearness and Loneliness

[Посвящается разбитым сердцам и отвергнутым душам...
Или же просто тем, кто знает, что жизнь без любви - это пытка...
Но и в любви она может оказаться жесточайшим испытанием...
Правда, это произведение не только об этом...]
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I made a sculpture of glass:
Two lovers embracing in passion…
I watched how light deep caressed them
In diamonds of my eyes…
As the darkening shadows possessed,
The’re becoming alive in my view,
In the music of ambient cantoes
Their tango was rapid and lure…

My heart was so lonely:
I wanted to love and be loved,
But the women perfumes
Were dying like the waning moon,
Inconstant in their pure gorgeous senses…
Then in the bath of pain
– This bitter rum of lust intoxication –
I washed away the filth of loving games…

And for how long?
My violin cried violently to the chilling stars…
They echoed the sound of broken heart
In changes of the day and night…
That only sound I lived which made me mad…

Dreaming then, one thought obsessed me,
And I felt inspired to create a figure…
A figure of me, made of iron, covered with glassy adorn…
And then I made an ideal woman for my figure…
Thus, never trusting in her charms,
I made her full of glass to caution my-that
Against the iron every woman has inside to strike at man’s heart…

While watching them dancing
– Two frauds of my sense –
My mind filled with pleasure,
But when I turned my eyes
I understood that all I’d got
Was nothing but a sad disguise…

So I threw the sculpture of glass
Into the ground full of rocks!
And there and then my eyes reflected the picture:
My figure’s skeleton iron writhing bare amidst the shattered glassy ice…

All hopes are false…
All knowledge is the case of arts…
When inspiration goes
There’s nothing left but woe…