TWO KINDS OF EYES
I once saw eyes that were sinful, tempting,
eyes that were big, dark, and fire-striking,
eyes that demanded all or nothing.
Next to them two other eyes were shining
that were blue like the flowers in the spring,
and demanding from me nothing, nothing
but promised to give to me everything.
And I chose those sinful eyes, they won.
I gave them all I had, everything,
my home, my tribe, my happy work, all gone,
my pride, my peace, conscience, kept nothing,
though in return I got nothing, nothing,
just giving to those eyes felt like a blessing.
Again, two kinds of eyes to me shine,
the eyes that are big, dark, full of sorrow,
eyes enlarged by prolonged enduring pain,
and they motion, telling me: “tomorrow
let’s escape far away from here to where
a new life, new and dignified we find there,
we start a new epoch, a new beginning,
rising, and to rise each others helping,
to the highest heights of the milky way,
to the glory of sacred holy day!”
So to me they twinkled, those big dark eyes.
The other eyes too, were captivating,
blue like a crack in newly frozen ice
where the glitter of the sun is dancing:
“Come here, come here, let’s dive in, arm in arm
we are young, rich pleasures are us waiting
or, will you not, I will do no harm,
I shall kiss you as my royal highness,
I will give to you all my love, my charm –
or kill, so the other eyes won’t you caress!”
Times change, I too have changed though not bitter.
The eyes that now are big and sorrowful
are the same as those that then were sinful.
The eyes that now so joyously glitter
and are sinful, belong to her best friend –
Sinful eyes will again win, at the end.
THE INSULTED
Two slaves, together chained,
deep to the heart insulted,
the wrists in shackles strained,
the shoulders heavily loaded!
We can not join together,
we can not separate either,
to make love to each other,
or to stop loving neither.
I was unfair to you, I was offending,
my heart too, was broken and crushed.
You were unfair to me, it was upsetting,
it benumbed my feelings, they died.
So died your sensuous feelings,
it was my fault, that I know.
Gone are our happy spring-evenings,
now eternal winter and snow.
When I see you again these days
tears start flowing from my eyes,
again, hand forsaken waves,
the heart forsaken, again dies.
I see that your soul tries to come near
and tries to reach out towards me,
then your heart’s sobbing I hear
that once dared to hope and plea.
And then you pretend all is fine,
again, hand offered stops waving,
all we have is memories’ shrine,
sorrow and mutual longing.
Two slaves, together chained,
deep to the heart insulted,
in the wrists the shackles of love
the shoulders by wrongful deeds loaded!
CLEAREST SPRING
Spring, the clearest,
tell me what to say
if my very dearest
I meet on the way?
-Nothing, you just sigh,
melt away and go,
waste away and die
with the melting snow!
Spring, so sweet and clear
tell me what to say,
if she would me spear,
give me life today?
-Nothing else is right
enchanted you swear
an oath holy, white
like flowers in her hair!
________________________________________
AUTUMN LEAVES
Autumn leaves are flying overhead,
sorrow is booming in wanderer’s chest.
Flying leaf, my fate like yours will it be,
the end of my love and my singing I see?
»Stranger, don’t worry, our new-found brother!
Thousands of years or a while, doesn’t matter.
Flying leaf, like you was I left floating free,
detached from my life, from my pleasure-tree?
»Just stay calm! Life is a dream, not to keep.
Your only joy: cry for your dream when you sleep.
Flying leaf, like you can I fly, like a swan,|
fading to dreams of the rising dawn?
»Smarten up, our new-found brother!
New dawn will come, not the sorrow.
The leaves fly over poor wanderer’s head
who still longs for the beauty he once met.
AUTUMN LEAVES
Autumn leaves are flying overhead,
sorrow is booming in wanderer’s chest.
My fate, flying leaf, like yours will it be,
the end of my love and my singing I see?
»Stranger, don’t worry, our new-found brother!
Thousands of years or a moment, doesn’t matter.
Flying leaf, like you will I be left floating free,
detached from my life, from my pleasure-tree?
»Just stay calm! Life is a dream, not to keep.
only joy is to cry for your dream when you sleep.
Flying leaf, like you can I fly, like a swan,
fading with dreams of the rising dawn?
»Smarten up, our new-found brother!
The dawn will come but not your sorrow.
The leaves fly over the wanderer’s head
who longs for the beauty he once met.
SUMMER-EVENING’S GENTLE BREEZE
Gentle breeze in evening twilight
on the hillside sighing.
The silver trail in moonshine’s highlight
in its finesse charming.
The backwoods’ pine is swinging slowly,
faraway a cuckoo calling.
The wanderer walks quietly,
sorrows of the mind are sleeping.
THE SWELL
In prolonged gently sloping waves
the storms of my spirit swell,
the lure of adventures, lust for dreams
they stay, like memories they dwell
In very few years I had matured and aged.
How did I learn that to know?
Because fewer and fewer quarrels I waged
and I could take insults without a row.
Because now the sorrow of the spirit
is bigger than my feelings’ fire,
because now I deny from myself
what for us was a common desire.
Lovely, sunny days ahead of me –
perhaps, perhaps a canyon deep,
death, poverty, misery, perhaps –
or death on a manure heap.
What is important to others
means nothing to me, just boredom,
the riches, love, honor and power,
just my spirit’s eternal freedom.
EVENING SENTIMENT
In faraway backwoods the sunset
golden glow on the lakes creates,
but the glitter is brightest on bulrush,
on the shores of the islands and straits.
Ah, if only my restless chest,
from here would find the peace,
as if hope had never existed,
forgetting the memories!
That gold of the sun, if only
inside one’s heart one could take
and be alone and strange to himself
like the bulrush and glittering lake!
ON THE TRAILS IN THE FOREST I WANDER
On a trail in the forest I wander
in my thoughts in midsummer evening,
my chest swelling with joy I ponder,
and I’m singing, singing and singing.
There, in the grove’s verdant splendor
something marvelous happened to me,
so wonderful, gentle and tender,
in the fragrance of bird-cherry tree.
I’m the one and the only to know,
someone else it knows, only she
and that ladybird’s mate in the grove,
and that fragrant bird-cherry tree.
THOSE EYES
Those eyes, they sparkled happiness and fire
so furious and charming,
those starry eyes bubbled with joy and desire,
so strangely undulating.
Was it your happiness, that sparkle so dire,
a blossom by birth, a flaming flower,
you kept my feelings flaming in fire
you made me weak, you stripped my power.
Or was it all mine, that happiness sparkling,
that through my life I had searched,
that told me to come home, always inviting
then like an echo escaped.
AUTUMN MORNING
Frosty long opalescent silver veils
crawl over the fields and shimmer
over the yellowish land like sails,
and on tree branches hover.
The sun has arisen, early morning,
time for me to follow.
I sit quietly, longing, yearning
close by my cabin’s window.
I see the road, the red milestone,
the thicket of long crack willow.
I see the field, the forest zone,
the sunrise, a majestic show.
I see my whole life, its future, its past.
O, it makes me shiver!
Cruel torment, happiness lost,
my heart starts to quiver.
Ah, you opalescent frosty silver veils,
cover my paining core,
cover the love lost that still prevails
don’t let it sneak to my door;
so that the cry of the lonely rover
not only the shadow hears,
so that the pillow of the wanderer
would not be soaked by icy tears.
THE GOODNESS
The Goodness arrives, she makes no noise,
she walks and whispers with silent voice.
Her voice is the voice of the suffering,
she has cried for you, agonizing.
In her eyes she has desperate views,
still they are filled with hope-giving news.
To you, she offers the pearls that she wears,
that is all she has, that is all that she cares.
Take her gift as a divine pleasure,
from heaven’s valleys comes this treasure.
She came to you to sooth your cries,
she wants to look deep into your eyes,
and caress your hand and go away,
whispering: there will be a better day.
THE CHILD OF JULY
Life without love is not worth living;
so gentle was my loving mother,
I long for love, warmth tenderly giving,
her love warmed me like no other.
Blown to strange shores by hostile gales
I am trembling here like in fever.
Gloomy hymns are singing their tales,
sorrows in my heart make it shiver.
On the brightest day in July I was born,
when days were warm and always nice.
These mocking mouths, I can’t take their scorn
the glances wry that feel like ice.
I love the song of the trees in the valleys,
not the gusty mountain winds in these the alleys.
THE SICKLE OF MOON
Tardy shifting like moon’s sickle
through the night forlorn,
cuts your love my lonely heart,
its lentil and its corn.
Sighing like a wisp of cloud
to northern skies confined,
tightly wrapped, a dream in shroud
sighing sadness on my mind.
To dream of love I have no right,
surely not, for sure I know.
Dim is the jamb to the night
like evening cloud’s faintest glow.
I grew old, my mind got twisted,
turned black like the darkest night,
my thoughts, my views distorted
dressed in horror and in fright.
DELUSION
She arrived like sun-rays to me straight,
like the moonshine, bringing my fate,
and her lovely eyes were asking,
though always holy, ice-cold, staring.
Those eyes looked deep into my soul,
like to a gorge, a throat, a hole.
Bad, evil things they perhaps observed,
because, after that, they never returned.
Or was she a heaven’s delusion,
drowning my road like an illusion.
I tried to follow, I went astray,
is she with me or is she away?
A REMEMBRANCE
1. The Star
Like that, did you fall, did you stray too far?
My golden treasure, my music, my star.
She left me, she is gone, out of sight.
With her, all beauty gone into the night.
She didn’t die; she was captured by pleasure.
Dark night stays here, my only treasure.
Her destiny is mine, nothing can me save.
Hauling wolf pack is circling my grave.
I ask just for this, I beg just for this:
A peaceful rest, my only wish!
To forget you soon I was hoping –
my sorrow keeps your memory sighing.
2. The Ray and the Crystal
My ice-cold mind perhaps exploded
on that flaming pond’s icy surface,
when in ecstasy insane it bombarded
icy waves, in frozen embrace.
The nature’s laws tell: if the spring days,
the fall, and the crystal of ray
take their happiness under the waves,
their fait: slow frozen decay.
The rage of my torment is bitter
a captive of wind and fire,
her golden bubble’s glitter
like death and snow in winter
3. Swan Lake
Perhaps I was on golden sun-rays riding,
perhaps on the waves in summer night gliding.
Can’t recall, was it evening or dawn,
purple hue and a singing swan.
Shadowless light filled my mind with brightness
like the chest of a swan, innocent whiteness.
My midsummer dreams the swans were singing,
of my first love, its sensuous dreaming.
I tried to approach them – away they flew
like the wisp of a cloud with a whitish hue.