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Jinn

This is the way winds hum the wordless melodies
Let’s add more kindling and fuel to the flames
From our windows there’s a view of splendid gardens
There’s the sun and clouds flutter in the sky’s curtains.
 
I drink my gin
I’m still alive
I drink my gin
I still breathe
 
Every artist is often consumed by self-loathing 1,
Some kid once more after the train chasing:
He still dreams of catching train’s handrails
To force afternoon sun to roll down midnight trails.
 
I drink my gin
I’m still alive
I drink my gin
I still breathe
 
Nobody knows - all of a sudden, the pendulum might swing:
To those who would save us, memorials we’ll spring.
We’ll get warm, remember, and plans conceive
Toward what distant lands the ships should leave.
 
I drink my gin
I’m still alive
I drink my gin
I still breathe
 
I contrive my Jinn
I’m still in my skin
I drink of my Jinn
I still breathe in
 

• 1. the Jinn…

Beethoven

Versions: #2
Snowfall plays lento over rooftops,
The whole world’s seized by water and ice.
Barely audible, the sound drops,
Beethoven dies!
Beethoven dies!
Beethoven dies!
 
Into yet unrecognizable notes,
An accord took off and spilled.
The stone domes as vaults enclosed,
Beethoven died!
Beethoven died!
Beethoven died!
 
Beethoven lives!
And music floats through floors to roofs!
And music floats through floors to roofs!
This morning life seems so full of hopes!
This morning life seems so full of hopes!
This morning life seems so full of hopes!
 

100 years later

100 years later,
When we're no longer here,
100 years later.
 
Here will be built
Enormous buildings, full of all wonders they'll be.
People will discover unknown before knowledge
And wonders will be then here.
 
100 years later,
When we're no longer here,
100 years later.
 
There will no longer
Exist any borders, open will be every house
Life will shine on with the brightest of lights
That's what our life is about.
 
100 years later,
When we're no longer here,
100 years later.
 
There will no longer exist any borders,
Life will shine on with the brightest of lights,
Life will shine on with the brightest of lights.
 
100 years later,
When we're no longer here,
100 years later.
 

Terrifying secret

What to do, when
Everything in life is upside down.
Sparkling from the corner,
Carried by the breeze,
The tram departed,
So now on foot.
 
To warm hands, and the door
Is locked with two locks.
To look through the window for a long time,
Counting the clouds.
To write poems for the last time,
And then, to turn the gas in the kitchen on.
 
To write poems for the last time,
And then, to light the gas in the kitchen up.
To warm wine, to call to all of us.
 
This secret will die with us,
This terrifying secret will die with us,
This terrifying secret will die with us.
 

Skull and bones

When I am alone, I beg God,
Saying him: 'What's up, old chap?
Maybe you're tired and don't care about anything
And dark times came?'
 
When I am in a croud, I cry to him: 'My Lord,
Take away your gingerbread, hide your whip,
We are standing in the edge of abyss for years,
Isn't it time to push us down?'
 
When I am in the forest, I'm howling as a wolf,
I'm flouncing and possesed.
My Lord! I've lost, strayed, perished, dear me!
Turn me on this damned GPS!
 
Pave me the way, all in all, do something
For me to go out from this forest and find my home,
My Lord, just call me once via mobile,
To convince me you are online.
 
When I am in water, I am just like a cramp-fish,
I am glowing with electricity, I'm not swimming, I'm flying,
My Lord, add some money to my card,
And I will fly anywhere I want.
 
My God, i will open to you all my bank accounts and safes,
Sorry, they all are empty,
My Lord, can I do a selfie with you,
To drive all the atheists out to the bushes?
 
My Lord, if you will be near, be my guest,
We will sit, smoke, talk about life,
And, by the way, I bequeath you my skull and bones
Nobody else need it anyway.
 

Be my shadow

On this night, fern will blossom with marvelous color,
On this night, the brownies will come back home,
Clouds from the North, wind from the West,
So soon the witch will wave her hand at me.
 
I live in anticipation of a miracle, like Mauser in a holster,
Like I’m a spider in a web, like a tree in the wilderness,
Like a black fox in a hole,
I'm cold in my upper room,
Doors won’t open,
Сrayfish has the keys and crayfish is on the mountain.
 
I ran through the telescopes
From the frightened eyes of children,
I wanted to sleep with mermaid,
But I didn't know how to be with her.
I wanted to turn into a tram
And to drive into your window.
Wind is blowing from the outskirts,
We already don’t care,
Wind is blowing from the outskirts,
And we don’t care.
 
Be my shadow, my creaky rung,
My colored Sunday, my mushroom rain,
Be my god, my birch SAP,
My electric current, my crooked gun.
I was a witness to the fact that you’re the wind,
You’re blowing me in the face and I’m laughing,
I don’t want to leave you
Without fight. While I’m in yours dreams
Be my shadow.
 
It’s good to dance on the coals,
With this from whom resin like from pine.
it's well to watered milk
Young bodies.
It’s good to turn into a tram
And to drive into your window,
Wind is blowing from the outskirts,
We already don’t care,
Wind is blowing from the outskirts,
And we don’t care.
 

Let's keep quiet for a while

My dear, indescribably wonderful, beloved city, I've been hit.
Time to pay my debts, I have to pay them all hundredfold.
And the empty cars of my best friends in the world,
Are standing motionless near the doors of familiar houses.
None of them will run out towards me,
I stand looking at these windows from outside.
I'm crushed, defeated, I'm crippled
And I don't dream, as if I've been forbidden from dreaming.
As if everything we used to love, disappeared long ago,
And the only thing that remains is the words we said.
As if God had planned to make me out of iron,
But for some reason there is dried grass inside.
Get dressed, let's go, this place stinks of burnt things,
Move out your charred armies.
We have made such a mess of things here
That clouds thicken out of horror.
We used to part ways with a victorious song,
But now let's be quieter and more prudent,
And, under this most wonderful constellation,
Let's keep quiet for a while...
 

The Ground is Crumbling under my Feet

Chorus:
Every song sounds like an epilogue
Goodbye to the walls, to the floor, and to the ceiling
When you are here -
The ground is crumbling under my feet.
 
When the lethal current flows through my body,
When my whole skin is just like a burn
When you are here -
The ground is crumbling under my feet.
 
When you are here with me -
The ground is crumbling under my feet
Goodbye to the walls, and the floor, and the ceiling
 
Chorus:
Every song sounds like an epilogue
When you are here -
The ground is crumbling under my feet.
When you are here with me -
The ground is crumbling under my feet.
 

A Word is Told to Me

I was told a word, I split it into a string,
The voice was connected to a telephone call.
Strange orchestras amble in my head,
Strange orchestras...
 
That which fingers know - that is unknown to the eyes,
The piano keyboard exudes nerve gas,
Rabid wolves in naked wires -
Look into to your eyes and you will see fear!
 
I don't know formulas, but electric current is always electric current,
I saw a woman, I threw her a flower,
The wolves parted, now you can dig an underground passage -
But in the opposite window, a machine gun is installed.
 
You will see the sun in blinding heights.
If you caught someone in the evening in the rye.
I learned yesterday from the report of the latest news,
That I will die unknown in the shadow of my children.
 

You're dreaming

You've barely woken up.
Made a move from E2 to E4.
Need to finish writing the line.
 
But... Your Energizer battery has died, it's dead
A guy passes by, writhing from laughter
You exclusively see the sneers on the faces
And suddenly you realize that you're dreaming
You woke up, washed up, shaved, did some pushups
You stepped on the cat and argued with your wife
Made up with your wife, then argued with the traffic police
And suddenly discovered that you're dreaming
You go to work, get home from work
Gradually forgetting where you're from and who you are
Constantly forgetting where you're from and who you are
Forever forgetting that you're dreaming
 
You dream of a fisherman near the coral reefs
The unknown hero of ancient Greek myths
Molecular physics, an atom's energy
A naked woman, a hitman with a spade
A Christmas tree, a space station
A soap-box with music, a radio with dances
Engine oil, mobile networks,
The Zaporezhets* has finally overtaken the Mercedes 600
You dream of Tibet somewhere beyond the clouds
A London club, a coffeeshop** in Amsterdam
Japanese cuisine, Catch-22
A missile launcher with a nuclear warhead
A cave full of diamonds and rubies
You're the most desired, you're the most beloved
Your portrait is on the first page of the yellow press
And you realize that you're dreaming
 
If God exists somewhere, then he's far away from us
He has missed the mark like the Christmas Bullet***
And you'll achieve by yourself what everyone is aiming towards
And you'll suddenly reveal the smiles on the faces
And your Energizer battery starts up again
And the guy passing by begins laughing again
And there won't be any problems with your wife and the police
And you realize that you're dreaming
 

The Temple

I write to you from overcast lands
Where rain has filled the city to the brim with water
In which everything is reflected
And which isn't turning into wine
 
I write to you from northern latitudes
A live fish here is deader than the sprats
Here the puddles are one-third water and two-thirds petrol
Here the sim card can never find a connection
 
I write to you from southern shores
Where Mount Olympus is crowded with gods
Where the beaches become empty in October
Where everything reminds me of you
 
I write to you from those monasteries
Where there are neither windows nor doors
Or anything else, and to be honest
There's no monastery at all
 
I write to you, gazing at the dusk
Like a person who's given up his life for that
I'm watching, plunging into a fever or a chill
As the skyscraper falls to the ground
 
I write to you upon brick walls
I write on Novgorod birch bark
That's how they write on shreds and scraps
Going blind with or without glasses
 
I write to you that I'm flying home
That soon, our separation will be over
I write while the traffic light is red
I write until my iPhone dies
 
All things will turn into rubbish
Nobody will remember who built the temple
Such a life is neither sugar nor silk
Here, only the one who set the temple on fire is remembered
 
P.S. I'm writing to you, I'm writing!
Hello to you! To you, and the kid too!
To build a temple for so long, and burn it down in a moment
Can only be done by the one who erected the temple.