Произведение «Memoirs of a space scout (Воспоминания комического разведчика)» (страница 8 из 10)
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Memoirs of a space scout (Воспоминания комического разведчика)

the pine.
All is really fine and I cut myself all ties with the past.
No matter how fast would be my success I guess
I’d better leave the best of it to the rest and be the last.

Luck must be deserved. Either by yourself
Or by your ancestors. All deeds are fixed in the book
On the shelf of heaven. God doesn’t look at your face,
He looks into your heart and His grace flows to those,
Who already have a lot in spirit and soul. Turn your nose
To the rose, it’s natural and easy. God is busy,
But He likes what smells right and finds time for the goal
Of  delight. Play your role to the end and He will send
An angel as your friend. Love meets love, hate meets hate.
Undeserved luck is just a bait. If you are true and versatile,
God will smile and find jobs for all your ten hands.
In distant lands people wait for His word in the dirt.
And a lotus of faith grows up from it to space.

A diamond and a lotus match like a man and woman.
It is only human to unite the opposites in one.
Logic and imagination are two sides of the brain,
If you train both, you are close to the state of mind,
Required for a breakthrough to Sun. Be kind to your kind,
And aliens will trust you too. When you’ll moan alone,
in an anomal zone, stars will tinkle you by phone.

                                       6

Where do I live and where do I go?
I really don’t know. I just follow the flow
And drift to the sea to see what’s it all about.
I’m not proud of my gifts and don’t laugh aloud
At the misfortunes of unlucky fellows
On the dry mellows. What lifts me up?
A cup of tea or coffee. That’s a joke.
I lift myself  with the wind of luck. I provoke
Doubt in my saneness by my space visions,
But all religions declare some truths, they can not prove.
Is poetry different?  No, a poet is a prophet of some times.
Though you may not approve of such beliefs and rimes.
He is not a stiff chief, responsible and heavy like a stone.
He is alone and has nothing to loose. So he is free
In his imagination and can fleet from rigid facts to versions,
Discovering real, but hidden distortions and proportion
Of truth and beauty. He acts like a scout in an enemy zone.
And he can phone future generations of all nations.
I write both in English and in Russian for the discussion
And promotion of Chan Buddhism of ancient China,
So I’m universal and versatile as an angel’s smile.

When you are sad or mad, things are not really so bad
As you think. Just wink to the mirror and cheer up.
Drink a cup of light from Sun, link to friends in heaven.
Seven archangels and  four apocalypse zodiac signs –
Lion, Taurus, Eagle (Scorpio), and Angel (Aquarius) –
Make eleven holy creatures, glorifying God and life as fine.
The cross of Apocalypses, or a square, is Earth, the fourth
From Sun. Or four elements of nature, fire, air, water, earth.

The structure of the universe is formed by numbers -
One plus three makes four, three plus four – seven,
The sum of each two numbers is the next. These texts
Follow this simple school rule for the teens to the full –
Seven and eleven are eighteen, eleven and eighteen – 29 …

                                          7

Twenty nine is the number of days in a month.
Arts must be fine not only in content but also in form.
This is my norm. A storm of emotions in the oceans
Can drown you down to the deep to eternal sleep.
A furious wind can sweep you away as dust in the steep.
That is not my way. I contemplate and I’m never late.
You can find the proper state of mind in a lake or a pond,
If you move slowly as a snake and don’t respond
To fools. Heaven cools a soul with blue. Find a clue inside.
The glue of illusions sticks to red bricks. To decide
What’s right your mind must be bright and light.
You must be slow in preparations and quick in reactions.
You can ride the wave and enjoy its might.

My farewell song is not so strong, I look into your eyes
And see myself. A reflection or a recollection of the past.
Love has passed and at last I don’t fear to be near.
Your hair is in despair like clouds in the windy sky.
Moon in the window is sad and I’m glad you passed me by.
When you’ll finally disappear fading from my view,
I’ll become new as a phoenix, rising from the ashes.
Your lashes tremble and you resemble a terrible ghost,
You died before me, when you decided to leave.
But will you resurrect? If I post a hello, will you retrieve
Your mood? And should I believe in your halo?
But it is time to part for ever and to start lonely life of stars.
Now your planet is Venus, my planet and fate is Mars.
Wisdom, power and  love are three steps to eternity.
Thesis, antithesis and synthesis of salvation or liberation
Of your soul as the goal of your life. Angelic fraternity
Will accept you to the tetrahedron of four dimensions
By your deeds and your intensions that came true.
I’m through and I’m blue. But I’ll return and burn you
With my love to ashes. Beauty is a threat and challenge.
It smashes and changes men. The same is Zen.
                         Earth and Heaven

                                       1

Are you ill? Or is it still
Just your mood? Don’t shoot
At the skies, God is good,
Angels laugh at such guys.
Life is rough for the fools,
Bloody pools aren’t divine.
Grows vine to the sun,
You are Mother Nature’s son.

I’m in vacuum - lonely, lonely like a star
With years for light to reach my neighbors.
I drive my car along a sole road like a scar
Cutting the desert of my soul. And my labor
Is invisible for humans, only cactuses, green aliens,
Laugh at my jokes and appreciate my sense of humor.
My allies forgot me and I start my life and fight anew.
A ray of light in the darkness of the hell. And who are you?
Do you really smell the flavor of the paradise?
Do you see with your own eyes
The divine sunshine of your salvation?
Or just believe like sleeping population
Of these three dimensions in positive intentions?

My sword  is singing in my lightening fight
That I am always fit and right.
My enemies are senseless dolls,
I take them by surprise before they rise
To their feet. Their heads roll off the shoulders
In the heat of my attack. The elders
Of the space show the trace of their fleet
After defeat. Another race knows better
The sacred letters of our past that will last
For millenniums to come. The scum
Of atheism and Satanism will melt
Like darkness in sunrise. Paradise
Can be felt in a single flower or seen in eyes.

                                     2

I remember ancient days
And I follow ancient ways
In my life and in my strife
For divine and happy light.
Heavens also remember
Any slight but honest thought,
Of the happy circle’s member,
Knowing really what is what.
All our deeds and our needs
Are recorded on the list.
Intuition in the mist
Leads us to the morning call
Of the sunny fire-ball.

Stars are fading in the dawn,
Bless the day when you were born.
And the new and happy day
Like an unexpected ray
Will come to your soul to stay.

Due to the morning dew
After the stream of happy dreams
I am ever fresh and new.

My soul flies to the skies
Like a sunny butterfly.
Flowers feed me with nectars,
The day hides wailful stars
With  the brave blue light-delight.

Who is riding cosmic waves
That assault our world of grief?
Aliens quests or angels’ chiefs
To prove men they not slaves?
And that they can be the best
Among new and rising worlds
If they here the whisper words
Of their soul and skip the rest.

                                        3

Music helps me to survive,
To stay fit and still alive
In the abyss of the outer space,
Where human race is cast
As cosmic gas and dust.
From which all galaxies and stars
Appeared in the pre-human past,
When God invented space for us.

A man is a microcosm,
A reflection of the universe.
Because the world is just a verse.

We hope for the better
In spite of all defeats and lies.
Where flies the letter
Of our prayers and appeals?
Who deals with our fate
And why is this force so late?
When we really need
Some help against cruelty and greed …
Retribution only in the hell or paradise?
No, I want to see it now with my own eyes.

Music revives my soul after years of fight
For higher goals far away from sunny light.
Now no one can tell, was it an illusion,
A daydream, or a real threat of alien intrusion.
I’ve done my best and now can rest
At home for away from the outer dark.
But I’m not so tired to retire
So as a spark I want to start here a fire.

God  used esthetic forms and measures
In creation for His own pleasure.
Now we at leisure study  the golden proportion
In art and nature to overcome distortion.
Music is the salvation of the civilization.


                                                4

Music of life plays in my soul the role
Of  the guide in the unknown zone.
No pride and no regret for the past,
At last I live as I like because I am left alone,
Forgotten both by aliens and allies.

Who switches off the day light
And turns it on at dawn?
Laws of nature or Supreme Reason?
In summer I wonder, why is sun so bright,
In winter – why snow is so white.
Why is every season divided into months, zodiac signs?
Why plane is determined by two lines?
Who signs the order for Moon to grow?
If you know all secrets, tell me. Don’t be slow.
Why is number  π close to eleven,
Multiplied by two, divided by seven?
The holy number of archangels, planets, days of week…
If your mind is weak, leave mysteries to sages
Who told us at distant ages that the world
Is ruled by numbers. And sleep in slumbers in the whirl  
Of galaxies and fields, where proud reason yields.

My imagination like cinema shows me future generations
On other stars and planets as new civilizations,
Spreading from Earth, the place of their birth,
To the multi-dimensional sphere of the universe
Like running away galaxies after the initial burst.

My soul is a flower,
Growing to the light and warmth of sun.
My spirit is the power of  God inside.
My body serves me till the edge of abyss,
Where I’ll fly to the sky. We live on Earth only once
And than reincarnate in seven heavens,
Where stars dance after the earthly trance.
And God give us a new chance.

                                    5        
   
If you are strong, you may be wrong.
I am a ninja shade with a lightening blade,
Weak like a water leak from a jug breach,
I can reach death itself with a hug
As equal. My kiss will never miss,
My strike will drive your soul
To the underworld. My goal is strife.
Mortal strife with the strong but silly.
Willy-nilly you’ll except  my rules or die.
I’m a poison on the end of the needle.
If you try to resist you’d better not exist.
I am an eternal Eastern riddle.
And in the West I’m also the best.

I hide like a mouse in the house.
But my unlucky fate is just a fake.
In reality I’m a cat, chasing mice.
Don’t think twice, my advice –
Surrender for your own sake.

I return to life after years of meditation
In a lonely world, called planet X.
I can fix my situation in one word – remix.
I shall live my life anew from the start
With a new rhythm and old rimes.  
The times have changed, but I’m a part
Of the universe and my force
Is flowing from above like love.

A space ranger can arrange a meeting
With an alien friend, who in the end
After greeting will turn out to be no stranger.
But a phantom of earthly origin
From the region of the ranger’s motherland.
Or a projection through the fifth dimension,
Astral plane, of his astral body and intention
To be a shade of his own mortal trade.

                                      6

Who will be my readers? I don’t know.
Where do I send my verses? Just to space.
Each is a blow at some unknown target in the haze.
I’m a lonely fisher in the ocean of fantasy.
My source of inspiration is ecstasy
Of love to life in youth thirty four years ago.
Time is slow but now I’m fifty five
And that is practically all my life,
Spent in the exploration of the initial insight
To the divine delight inside my everyday mind.
We all have Buddha-nature and inner light.
Zen taught me the simple truth I knew without it.
And now books lie on the shelf and I’m back myself.

The flow of life is music, harmony hides in all I see.
Nirvana is a sea of bliss but it is not outside the world.
It’s here and now if you feel it. Like wind that blows
Everywhere or rain that falls on your cheeks.
Or Moon, or flowers and butterflies. Without tricks.
 
Enlightenment is a gulp of water in the heat of desert.
You can’t deserve it or achieve it by artificial means.
It comes when you understand what life really means.

Mantra Om is the sound of harmony in your heart
And tranquility in your mind. It may be a start
Of the way to light. And it means eternal love to life.
Om Maitreya, Om Maitreya,
Aum Yeum Om Maitreya

The East is not for a beast. Martial arts are only parts
Of the ancient knowledge. The essence of all things
Is opened for millenniums by each Buddha
and ages by sages. Its vision brings peace and power.
Our life seen from this angle is not a tangle.  
Every moment turns out to be a revelation of creation.
Unique and divine, self-sufficient and full of meaning.
Life is streaming. And I drift in my belief like a red leaf.    




                                     7

My poetry is a trace of light in my soul.
I looked into the face of space
And smiled at my earthly dole.
I’m a phoenix, rising from the ashes after crashes.  
I ride the wave of luck in the chaos of the unexpected,
God elected us for a lesson for the old and wise
Who close eyes and collapse like a black hole
After the brilliant role and achieving their goal.
A superstar can be persuasive and attractive,
But time wipes it away. I’m a small ray
For distant future, my impulse will be active
In limitless vast space as long as human race
Searches for harmony inside and outside.

I ride the wave of power with a fire sword in my hand
In the wonderland of five dimensions and abroad.
I visit invisibly other counties to inquire why
They are sleeping like my proud motherland.
Earth is a particle of dust in the vast emptiness of light.
Men forget about eternity and loose themselves in time.
I might fly away for ever to a lonely paradise,
But my rime calls me back to my disguise.

A candle at the wind dies and a big fire grows.
Who knows his potential before he tries?
A looser chooses the quietude of a bog,
A fool drifts along the river like a log.
My choice is the risk of heavenly adventures
And earthly ventures with the dice of art.
I must be smart to conquer some attention or success,
But I saw only mice and played with Satan  tricky chess.

My window opens to heaven, my door – to earth.
When I look at planets and Moon or Sun,
Determining my horoscope of birth,
I learn the future and get some intellectual fun.
But outdoors I still prefer flowers and birds.

                                8

Do you believe in life after death?
Or prefer sensations, feelings, breath?
Earth and heaven wait for your choice,
What prompts you your inner voice?
If you choose earth, heaven is lost,
If you choose heaven, earth becomes a ghost.
Science and religion offer different news,
But art can unite even such fighting views.
Beauty and harmony belong to both worlds,
My contemplation near the moony pond
Creates a hidden inner timeless bond
With the eternal space of love above.

A fading star sings its farewell song
And dies in sorrow before dawn.
I walk along the stream, following a beam.
A bluebird flies ahead, melting in the sky.
Sun turns from yellow and white
And then from white  to red
But luck is far away, although hard I try.  
Is it a religious myth or just a fairy-tale?
Can I catch its mocking  tail? Or I shall always fail?
The water sings a silver song,
The sun beams like a copper gong.
Where do I really go? I don’t know.

Two mirrors make an endless row
Of reflections, which grow to eternity
And  give a glimpse of an alternative
Dimension of cold mental recollections.

The new age of Aquarius is a labyrinth of versions.
Harmonic proportions grow from  irrationality
Like a lotus bud from the mud. True reality
Is hidden in the chaos of potentialities
Like honey in the hive. If you are afraid of bees
Don’t try. But then all the honey will be my.

                                      9

Why do I write at all? Poets are numerous as stars,
My flower of inspiration is so small
And I’m the last pupil in their class.
I’ve spent my life in meditation and spiritual research
I don’t know poetry and art. No matter how hard I search
For better rimes I’m not so smart in English verse
As natives speakers and professionals by birth.
I’m a Russian but I write for the New World.  
To share the light I found in youth
In simple words with other seekers of eternal truths.

America, Australia, hello!
My self-esteem is so low
Because I’m nobody in my land.
And a suspicious alien to your own jazz-band.  
I don’t wait much and don’t hope for success.
I tootle for some lonely souls, kin to mine.
The less I have the less I fear to loose
My eternal flute is brave and I don’t mind,
If you don’t like me and consider an abuse
Of your time. I listen only to silence and my rime.

Imagination, dream and vision –
Three steps to reality from the collision
Of Earth and Heaven  in our fate.
Mere illusion is an demon’s bait
For the week, who never seek.
Truth approaches your soul in symbolic masks,
Explaining your opportunities and tasks
By some subtle hint and unobtrusive mint.

God is above men’s heads and below their feet.
He’s our roof and  foundation, we can’t beat
Dogmatists in argument but we can stand and walk.
The truth for them would be a shock, or a circus,
For us - like a chock, with which a teacher draws a circle.
If you see Him in its center and periphery, you are free.
             
                                10

The hell is inside you and around, if you proud.
No matter what you take a pride in, if you are not humble
You can stumble and fall into pieces like a brick.
If your mind is quick, you’d better stick to a simple
Principle of kung-fu – be round like a rolling ball  
In all your moves and the enemy will slip with his kick.
Be like  water and you will ignore all nocks and locks.
But if you become a mount, high to reach the sky,
You’ll never make a step towards real results in any field.
Even if you build yourself a pedestal of the praise of fools,
Your burning pride is like riding a demon to the abyss,
That cools all ambitions and kaif  of self-love and self-respect.
If all meet you with applause, suspect a cheat and a deceit.  
Because only God knows what is a true work of light,
Staying for centuries with heavenly copyrights and might.

Galaxy is a family of kin civilizations.
Laws of nature or of God are similar all over the space.
Human nations and alien races grow in the same garden
As flowers of the same origin and  fate. Eden and Adam
Is our common source, because human seeds like weeds
Spread with the cosmic hurricanes through astral planes.

The 34 lines in my verses are my years of contemplation
And the ninth Fibonacci number, Neptune, meditation.
The twenty fist year of my life was a burst of inner light.
Now I am fifty five, the sum of the previous two. And
A Fibonacci number too. This ratio is golden proportion.
I’ve passed the Path and now describe it in the Internet.
For any one who


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 Автор: Олька Черных
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