Forward

Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face!
Clouds of the west – sun there half of hour high –
I see you also face to face.

Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious you are to me!
On the ferry-boats the hundreds and hundreds that cross , returning home,, are more curious to me than you suppose,
And you that shell cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my meditations, that you might suppose.

2

The impalpable sustenance of me from...

I was searching for peace of mind
Always
I was afraid not to find it
Never
There was only a pain

And then I have risen
Above all illusory worlds
yeah

Wonderful Emptiness destroys thoughtforms
It is inside of me
There are no more sufferings because of alien desires

Everything is only illusion
Look into yourself and you'll find a Truth
You are on the right Way
Stop, dont run
Listen to silence...
There is nothing here

Close your eyes and look ahead
Forward of yourself
All...

If there is something
You cannot accept,
Stiuation, Existence Part, Man,
Take yourself in a loan.
As here you had never stood.
No time - no space - no mood.
So nothing would have been left.
Objectivise it, feel the Power of Plan...
The Universe is a smiling eternal cleft
In God's Divinity's Holy's Infinite's boots.
And Go On... Go on... Go on... Searching Your Higher Self.

Для редактора,
озабоченного передовицей,
он никто, какой-то Джон Мильтон,
затерявшийся на литературной обочине.

Актриса глицериновую слезу
из-за него не проливала ни разу.

О нем хранит молчание
радио и телевещание.

Нет ни досье, ни файлов секретных.
Нет псевдонимов народу известных.

Никому не интересно
узнать его настоящее имя.

Жив ли он, мертв ли он,
не проверяет никто.

Возможно в чулане
детективы найдут его труп
с разбитым лицом,
с открытыми глазами...