Valery Kourinsky

03.23.1999

SWAPPING MY ABSENCE FOR A PLACE

Without truth again I suffocated.
And silly mouth told me freshprepared lie,
becoming stranger, further, alienated,
beginning nothings to produce of previous happiness.
The day was nightly in a traitorous sense,
the traitor was beside in fact as well,
and something lost I tried in vain to find,
forgetting password for the paradise,
so as to pick the mystery in a bush.
I was so damned by lips that were so loved,
I was so cursed by tongue
which was a source of sweetness,
I was so choked by hands
that were so tender,
so tender and so concerned
with all my world which one is able to caress,
to stroke along the fairy-tale meridians
all-touchingly and mighty and forever.

>From all of hells that I am here to carry
I chose the most bitter for myself,
I live believing all whom I am loving
and I love all whom I'm capable to believe.
>From all the shells I didn't leave me any
and soul-nakedly walk in times around,
from meeting to another, both with you
transformed metempsychosically, oh,
now into goddess, now into stone,
now into sunny flight, now into fall...

The flattened mocked existence makes me scared
and more simple than I'm in the volumed,
in one that was not long ago, --
there dominated spheres and bulging forms
and gestures of all living being are luxuriant,
are sometimes sacred texts
which become the dipper the longer you read it.

Slopes of weeks contain the brooks of joy --
spring knows its business and unveils secret of uplift,
creating new verity, or rather refreshing that old.

Spring aims truth,
snuffing out covers, which pretend to be a kind of sense.
Spring is verity,
ironically presented me by the organic life of midlatitudes
of this planet.
Spring is a coordinates locator,
swapping my absence here for a place,
where the green reality grows,
hoping to bear fruits and to make us a good bearers of beauty.