Persik
where your thought is, there your heart will be al
- Mar 11, 2025
- 69
We've got the hot Sun, and naive, little children,
And joy of prized melodies, books that intrigue,
If not, how could on this round planet have lived then
Beethoven and Pushkin, and Heine, and Grieg?
Invisible arts live in every small instant,
In thoughtful, strong words, smiles and shining of eyes.
Create! Make each moment bring gold! Be persistent!
Each day hosts new ecstasies, thoughts, nice and wise.
In woeful convulsions, it's endlessly shameful
To willingly vanish like shadows on glass.
Oh, will there be no more new parties or names met,
Or are there but dogs on this planet? Bad guess!
If myself I'm sullen, like black paint or cinders,
(Just smile and shine, compared to me here),
This blush is a scurf from a drainage, now hindered,
My Muse, having lifted me up on a spear.
Just wait! I'll get used to this new, awesome housing,
A starling in spring, I shall sing on my spear.
I'll deafen your ears with the bliss it's arousing.
Just give me some time to make sense of ragged gear.
Please stay! Very few here are thoughtful and honest,
Please stay! Only they justify our lives,
In unknown addresses ā find their home nests,
Like you, very still in the dust, each one lies.
If best folks on Earth are to fall down steep stairwells,
Hyeanas and morons will make this world end.
Enjoy your free flight, uncontrolled. You can stay well.
Extend your sweet soul to its limits, my friend.
Do well as a spouse, a sister or brother,
An artist or midwife, a doctor or nurse,
And seek no rewards. May your soul not be bothered:
These keys open hearts and can cure any curse.
On islands of thinking alone, do not tremble,
Be smart, you can rest over there, as you'll see.
Throw stones into waters of dark. In this temple
Relax among cliffs, hanging over the sea.
And questions... The questions lack answers, still missing:
They'll Ńome and they'll burn, fade like measles, unkind.
Recall the two tips of King Solomon. Listen!
Don't argue with fools, and leave boredom behind.
And joy of prized melodies, books that intrigue,
If not, how could on this round planet have lived then
Beethoven and Pushkin, and Heine, and Grieg?
Invisible arts live in every small instant,
In thoughtful, strong words, smiles and shining of eyes.
Create! Make each moment bring gold! Be persistent!
Each day hosts new ecstasies, thoughts, nice and wise.
In woeful convulsions, it's endlessly shameful
To willingly vanish like shadows on glass.
Oh, will there be no more new parties or names met,
Or are there but dogs on this planet? Bad guess!
If myself I'm sullen, like black paint or cinders,
(Just smile and shine, compared to me here),
This blush is a scurf from a drainage, now hindered,
My Muse, having lifted me up on a spear.
Just wait! I'll get used to this new, awesome housing,
A starling in spring, I shall sing on my spear.
I'll deafen your ears with the bliss it's arousing.
Just give me some time to make sense of ragged gear.
Please stay! Very few here are thoughtful and honest,
Please stay! Only they justify our lives,
In unknown addresses ā find their home nests,
Like you, very still in the dust, each one lies.
If best folks on Earth are to fall down steep stairwells,
Hyeanas and morons will make this world end.
Enjoy your free flight, uncontrolled. You can stay well.
Extend your sweet soul to its limits, my friend.
Do well as a spouse, a sister or brother,
An artist or midwife, a doctor or nurse,
And seek no rewards. May your soul not be bothered:
These keys open hearts and can cure any curse.
On islands of thinking alone, do not tremble,
Be smart, you can rest over there, as you'll see.
Throw stones into waters of dark. In this temple
Relax among cliffs, hanging over the sea.
And questions... The questions lack answers, still missing:
They'll Ńome and they'll burn, fade like measles, unkind.
Recall the two tips of King Solomon. Listen!
Don't argue with fools, and leave boredom behind.
