Imprisoned in the category of the one small picture
I became the slave of affectionate sentimentality
Asking myself about the magnitude
In name of words - the pretenders of Love
O, mad words
Desirous more than you can receive,
Do not ask about the fame
And the name of the Poetry
Of the Ages Size
Because you've been sewn
Nothing but one person measure
Looking of the second one
The small picture of lyrical magnificence
Choke further
In your longing town
Because it isn't time yet
For creation of the new dimensions
You are too young still
To such terrific transsubstantiations
You are as The Little Prince
Who could stir up too much
In this world of undiscovered values
By his defiant orders
So paint yourself further
The crystal small picture
Until you will grow up to the perfection
And you will shoot
Of the thousand crystalline flowers
Which become rooted in the ground
That the sons and daughters would be born
The Masters and Margarets
Gods and constructors
The new order of the world.
The sparkling herds
The imps of Idleness
Pierce me thoroughly
That they would extricate oneself
The pearly Mass
Of Impertinent Blaze
The uncontrollable Joy
O, my poor words
You felt ashamed because you don't know
Whether you have something to say – to this world
You got scared
This tale about your self
But this it is not a crime
You can play with your self
To arrange in the sky constellations
To get to the core of essence of the matter
And to die, uncovering nothing new
You can play in the gravediggers
Or the scatterers more
Nobody keeps you under command
Because it is me who keeps the reins
Of this Carriage of Words
And I love this rough ride and laugh
Of my own words
Speding up to the unconsciousness
How the fiery Araby
On the new road
To obscene and disobedient
Unknowing
So drive further!
My pearly steeds
To the unknown distinction
To the open sensuality
To the beginning of endlessly
Or with the many ends
To apeak of iceberg
Inside of impenetrable nothingness
Wherever
You can take me
Where I will die
Whipped and whipping
The Whip of contempt and the revolt
Against Everything
What dares me attention
That I'm going too fast
Or maybe in the wrong direction.
Oh, foul unbelievers
Of Existence the open border with the miracle!
How come you arrest me on the road
How come you doesn't believe to my Words?
Rushed on the cards
To the Meeting of the Perfect Truth ?
I laugh to you with the words
Which are playing with them selves
Stimulating my soul
To the Orgasm of Survival
And what else I can expect
From these words
Which don't care about the fame?
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