Demonic time. Messengers of happiness with unpretentious
truth invade into the life of politically well-fed, half-mendicant
and half-rich motherland, separated from the common sense, from
the foundations of being. How many wars, pogroms and famines should
we still overcome. Endless chorus of exhausted, dead,
humiliated by the historical passion of miseries is singing silent songs
over the country in the looking glass of heaven. For whom?
Is it really given to hear them? Sensitive hearing – it’s an anxiety of
the heart, the relentless memory of epochs, it is the pain that lives
at the native threshold and which we don’t allow to come into our house.
2008
Chaotically and irreconcilably quiet. Last year’s snow seemed a mane,
but no one came to collect it. They thought, Saturday. They were mistaken.
It’s time to wear a talliet. Fear seems an inconspicuous person for
tourists. All in their hands, and even the fairy-tales of unadjusted to
the spiritual life guides. It’s hard to see the rivers, flowing with milk and honey.
And the Glory Cloud that brought people out of Egypt, reminds
a cotton candy, I don’t remember, who of townspeople said.
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