“But what’s that blood on my hands that I feel,
Why does the wine burn like a grieve…”
Anna Akhmatova “Ballad of New Eve”. Translation is mine.
Who invited the ghosts to The House Bawl !
Let the Wine burn like The Word torches hearts…
You received the gift not to create the worlds,
When on a shiny table they’re tearing your heart apart
Don’t You Weep , Don’t You Cry, Your Tears are counted out,
On Account Of Those Who has sold us as muted herd…
Raven Black is singing about Your Dream of Gold,
And a New Moon above the Gates of Dawn Is warding Your Repose ,
White Night will keep Your tranquil sojourn ,
Black Day will reflect the Sphere of Dark.
Stairs Of Tower are desolated long time ago,
But at the edge of your path you'll keep what you loved.
2024.
Original text 2020.