The 28th

Poor little brother

The newborn sun has no mercy for you

How can you hold on?

Those hands that I made for you are brittle and stiff

Sad little brother

I failed to draw a proper smile across your porous face.

Киев

/Весна ещё не пришла, конечно, но уже близка. Предполагаю, что и в этом году весенний Киев будет выглядеть так же, как в предыдущие два года\

1.

Солнце.

Полынь.

Бесконечные голуби.

Безмятежная пыль.

 

Зной.

Телевышки.

Концерт Иво Бобула.

Штиль.

Манхэттен

/Перевод песни Леонарда Коэна — First We Take Manhattan. Долго думал, публиковать или не стоит. На всякий случай отмечу, что перевод сей не является спонтанной реакцией на смерть исполнителя или там, попыткой накрутить популярность блога. Я над ним с 2012 года думал, как только впервые услышал песню. Такие дела./

Event Horizon (Impasse)

1.

The tea leaves are scattered meaninglessly

The crystal ball goes dim and cracks in half

Stop trying to forecast and foresee

Stop shuffling your deck of Tarot cards

Get your hands off the future

 

You blurred the future with uncertain predictions

Scared it off with educated guesses

Confined it to your rigid plans and schemes

There is no future.

Nonologue

Once I decided to talk to myself

But I did it without due respect

Feeling insulted I chose to never reply to me

Thus clearly demonstrating my scorn and contempt

 

Once I decided that me and myself should never see each other again

That’s why I’ve destroyed every mirror

Every reflecting surface

For hundreds of miles around

I completely forgot what I look like by now.

Dollmaker

As soon as you are born give me a call

Right after your first cry

Forget about mother’s milk

Come, join me for a drink

I’ll introduce you to the cheapest joint in town.

The wave he gave

/I sort of sabotaged the third chapter of my short story, so it’ll be published next week. In the meantime here’s an interlude. The following poem is inspired by and shares a title with a (soon to be released via YouTube) short film, directed by my friend/

Sing, singularity!

 

Cruising through Heaven and Hades

Exploring my joys and despairs

Am I a singular self, or a stock of myselves?

 

Rooftops (Cheshire Cat)

 

I am wandering from a grin to a frown,

Hiding here behind a spire, wrapped in clouds

Streets are full of joyful noise, lively drone

Time is crawling from the dusk to the dawn

Один из нас — убийца

\Перевод песни The Dillinger Escape Plan — One Of Us Is The Killer\

 

Непостижима…

Тенью пляшешь за моей спиной

Нависаешь тучей грозовой

Так легко летишь…