Ask me, where I should come, in this moonlit night,

I have lost fear of the night and wolves, and reptiles.

Tell me, what I should bring for you, in our rendezvous,

I have forgotten weight of the things, of earth and the sky.


Allow me to take your hand now, and kiss on the fingers with love.

Be kind to dart a loving glance at me, I am a devotee to you.

I have brought flowers, incense sticks, with a supplicating hand.

Give me a darshan, let flowers bloom in my heart as in Spring.


Take me to your world, the land of mysteries and magic.

Show me the wonders, of the unseen, like a torchbearer.

Tell me the stories of yourself, and your dreams and sorrows.

Hug me, and invite me into yourself and to your world.


All that is enough for a life in this world, as ephemeral as it is,

Death would not be more beautiful as it is now, period.














I want to walk with you tomorrow, at night, on our familiar hillside,

holding your left hand, I want to promise to the winds, then to the sky.

When I whisper to the wind, kiss me on the right cheek, gently.

When I shout to the sky, embrace me tightly, lest I will fall.
Proclaiming my love out loud to the sky, I want to pour my heart to you;

my dear, hear me, this is what I am, what I am and what I am.

Hearing all this, let the gentle breeze cool your body and your heart.

I hope you find peace with yourself and in me, as I have in you.
I have bequeathed my heart to you, as to no one else:

Not to my mother and to my sister, and not to any friend.

When I am laid six feet under, at this hillside, among violet flowers,

Wrap it in rose petals, burn some incense sticks, and bury it nearby.



Spend time as a fish, relaxing at night, but no sleep,

stay still, with a murky world inside you, like an undercurrent.

Go to the church, kneel before Jesus, asking for mercy,

tell him, you are in despair, see his magic.

Or, go to the mosque, bow to the ka’aba, hail Allah,

now you feel light-hearted, it is his wonders.

Or, go to the temple, propitiate the goddess,

shower some flowers, tear your heart, see her smile.

If nothing works any longer, curse the world,

know that sinners have burdened gods with their prayers.

Grope into yourself, travel with Fyodor, keep the ebb and flow,

things are the way they are, gods or not.

Just have a coffee, a cigarette, and the earth still orbits the sun.


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