Formula. Collection of Poetry. Part 1.

Spirituality is a Formula. But unlike the mathematic one, it has a basic subjective nature. It's inner potential as well as deeper meaning strive to objectiveness. Whether it reaches it or not? Depends upon Formula...
Poetry > Other themes
Published on: 2013-07-28
Pages: 82

Formula I see the Music, I hear the Song of Light, I think sensually, and mentally create; I weave by Questions the Carpet of my Answers - Speaking silently by secret Words. My sharp Taste is near with Corundum of everyday Life, My frenetic Syllable – is like the Thunder of Being, My Aerie City – is amidst of the Earthly City: And in the Mediastinum I exist!.. Formula Я вижу Музыку, я слышу Пенье Света, Я мыслю чувственно, и мысленно творю; Я тку Вопросами Ковёр моих Ответов – Словами тайными безмолвно говорю. Мой Вкус отточенный с Корундом Быта рядом, Мой Слог неистовый – как Грохот Бытия, Мой Град Заоблачный – среди Земного Града: И в Средостенье существую Я!.. Scipio Peace – is Patience!.. I declare War, If the Idea of a Shameful Peace Oppresses Spirit by a subtle Anxiety, Stinging it by a pernicious Intolerance. I destroy this Idea by Action – By the fresh Air of Great Storm: I will forget the old Desires – Remembering God with a flaming Face! I will strike suddenly in the Heart of the Enemy – I will tear the Heart that nourishes Malice: I'll be out in the Field, fighting the "most important", That fears himself – and therefore scares. The World – follow me! By a Free Thought I'm now flying, slicing the Times: I will rank to Virtues the appropriated Glory, That expands Peace by a Strength of Patience!..

Scipio Мир – Терпенье!.. Войну объявляю, Если Мысль о Мире Позорном Нетерпением Дух угнетает, Нетерпимостью жаля тлетворной. Эту Мысль разрушаю Деяньем – Свежим Воздухом Бури Великой: Позабуду былые Желанья – Вспомню Бога с пылающим Ликом! В Сердце вражье ударю внезапно – Вырву Сердце, что Злобу питает: Выйду в Поле, сражусь с «самым Главным», Что боится – и значит, стращает. Мир – за Мною! Свободною Мыслью Я лечу, Времена рассекая: К Добродетелям Славу причислю, Что Терпением Мир расширяет!.. Lord of Copan The Contours of fused Clays, The Scars of ancient Erosion – The Memory of the solidified Avalanche, The Memory of silent Flint. Skeletons in the mountain' Dips, Of Temples, once deceased – Echo on the Edge of Responses, Echo shreds and cuts... Breakstone hide Monsters Hand-written of Blood on the Gloom: The predatory, greedy Flock In the close Ornament of Fear. Above all, the regal Monster Is compressed in a blind Mediastinum: Pulled by the scab Clay, By the Chaos of Sleep and Oblivion... Force to the foot of the Force He brought invariably,

By the Womb that gave rise to all, He justified integrally the Death. The Blood of Young and Beautiful He drank, dressing up as "Immortal", The Relics he begged flattering, Faithfully bowed down to Idols... Power destroys Limits – If she is insatiable – Crave the soulless Clay To revel by the stolen Life. The limitless Power torment – Tormented by a secret Madness – Power, the Tyranny of Epilepsy, Builds Visions in vain... Drought and Famine fall On the insatiable Kingdom: The Land become a Desert, The Water – a bestial Maw. Clay mixed with Bones, Passions and Paints are gone: There is no Memory here – The one that does not require a Mask... Владыка Копана Контуры плавленой Глины, Шрамы Эрозии древней – Память застывшей Лавины, Память безмолвного Кремня. В горных Провалах Скелеты Храмов, когда-то умерших – Эхо на Грани Ответа, Эхо кромсает и режет... Щебень Чудовищ скрывает, Писаных Кровью по Мраку: Хищная, алчная Стая В тесном Орнаменте Страха. Главный же, царственный Монстр,

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