Consider anything, only don't cry!

`Oh, don't go on like that!' cried the poor Queen, wringing her hands in
despair.  `Consider what a great girl you are.  Consider what a long way
you've come to-day.  Consider what o'clock it is. Consider anything, only
don't cry!' ("Alice in Wonderland - Through the Looking Glass")

Sometimes all I need is to just consider... who... how far... and just... only not cry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVl4qvHuY8g

I've been reading - Kahlil Gibran

On Marriage
 
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.


Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.


Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

I've been reading - Esenin

Because it is summer... or because it is cold... Because it is time to hit the road again... or because the gypsies' carriages will soon travel the countryside... Because it is a bit scary... or because it feels like need of a story... Because of a little too much... or because of the lack of it... I am back to Esenin and one of his most beloved poems "Shagane, you, my Shagane":

Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ...

Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ!
Потому, что я с севера, что ли,
Я готов рассказать тебе поле,
Про волнистую рожь при луне.
Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ.

Потому, что я с севера, что ли,
Что луна там огромней в сто раз,
Как бы ни был красив Шираз,
Он не лучше рязанских раздолий.
Потому, что я с севера, что ли.

Я готов рассказать тебе поле,
Эти волосы взял я у ржи,
Если хочешь, на палец вяжи -
Я нисколько не чувствую боли.
Я готов рассказать тебе поле.

Про волнистую рожь при луне
По кудрям ты моим догадайся.
Дорогая, шути, улыбайся,
Не буди только память во мне
Про волнистую рожь при луне.

Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ!
Там, на севере, девушка тоже,
На тебя она страшно похожа,
Может, думает обо мне...
Шаганэ ты моя, Шаганэ.


I managed to find a relatively decent translation though not doing justice to the beauty of the original but still... it will give an idea.

Shaganet, o my love, Shaganet!
You will know because I am Nordic;
I can tell you a meadow, most scenic,
Moonlit rye waves one cannot forget.
Shaganet, o my love, Shaganet,

You will know because I am Nordic;
So bright shines the moon out there
That it may outglow any glare
Of Shiraz blazing forth from its tunic.
You will know because I am Nordic;

I can tell you a meadow, most scenic,
For my hair was gifted from rye,
Twixt your fingers you may intertwine -
I don’t feel any pain, any heartache.
I can tell you a meadow, most scenic.

Moonlit rye waves, one cannot forget,
Look so much like my curly hair, darling.
Oh, my love, please keep joking and smiling,
But don’t let me think of the silhouette
Of the rye waves, one cannot forget.

Shaganet, o my love, Shaganet!
There, up north, lives a maiden who also
Does resemble you terribly close,
May be now she’s thinking of me…
Shaganet, o my love, Shaganet.      
(http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shaganet-o-my-love-shaganet/)

The poem is part of the Persian cycle. The rhythm of this poem is very specific and surely reminds of the Eastern, Arabic samples of poetry. It's a beautiful story about the touch which sometimes causes us pain but we still linger for it, and about love, present and absent. What I dislike in the translation is that namely the part about the pain is not conveyed well enough and is somehow lost among descriptions.

Weddings, peonies, a bit of music...

I waited a while before writing about the past Depeche Mode concert because I really didn't want to sound insane. LOL What can I say? As always when a dream comes true, it was quite a bit surreal, like both believable and unbelievable, standing there, two days ahead, watching the stage building and trying to imagine how it will be, how it will look, feel, smell... Nothing I could imagine was even close to what happened in reality. I was once again reminded that my mind is so limited and this is so sad. The good thing is that apparently another mind somewhere out there has such imagination! I hadn't planned to work at this event, yet I had to, for a couple of days but it was a blessing in disguise for which I'm so grateful now. And it was cool to be serenaded at the sound check when the audience is missing, the stadium is empty, and only we, who were working there, were listening. I will remember this night. It would be impossible to forget. :)

Meanwhile, a friend of mine announced her upcoming wedding and, naturally, put me there, at the front, to organize it. LOL I'm not very much into weddings but... a friend is a friend. I wanted to avoid the usual white/pink (or peach)/red theme and chose creamy white and chocolate brown for her. Wishing them both a smooth and sweet journey together. :) And peonies. I love peonies. They are lush, seductive, aromatic, long-lasting, gentle, they are like a whisper on a hot summer night, like a soft touch of velvet, like a cake with rum or a Turkish coffee. Delicious and intense. :)

I'm still at the stage where I'm trying to picture it in my mind and browsing for palettes and ideas. It should be a bit old fashioned, yet elegant, may be bronze, or old silver...

I really like the process of creating the event in my mind, of walking around and taking photos of things and colors I'd use, of creating the pattern and then fitting the objects in it. It's my favorite part.

Creamy white peonies for the bride. :)

Speaking of peonies, on our way back from the Rila mountain yesterday, I found myself into Wonderland:

These are wild peonies in the forest. The whole place carried their aroma, it was magical. If you ever come to this part of the world, the trip to the Rila monastery and the lakes is worth it. :)

Nestinari (Fire Dancing)

Nestinari are people who dance bare feet in burning coal on the night of June 3rd. The custom was originally pagan but as so many other customs and dates, with the coming of Christianity, successfully combined pagan symbolism with Christian faith. Since then Nestinari dance with an icon of St. Konstantine and St. Helena in their hands. The dancers are generational, it is very rare for an outsider to become a Nestinar. Usually they come from Nestinari families.

Nestinari was added to the UNESCO list of non material tresures of the world.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIAcYCAWIqo - a rare sighting of a lone Nestinar in a village where today the custom doesn't exist anymore.

The day in the Bulgari village, the only place remaining where the custom is preserved as it was, starts with a ritual procession of the Nestinari taking the icon of St. Konstantine and Helena to the sacred spring nearby, ritually washing themselves in the water, then taking the icon back to the chapel in the village where they stay inside for the rest of the day with no food or water. They listen only to the beat of the ritual drums for the whole day and pray, gradually reaching a trance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f41lmvMKtE0

When the dusk comes, the fire is started at the village square and when the darkness falls, the Nestinari enter the coal, sometimes they yell but not of pain, they experience a culmination of their long held emotions, it's ecstatic. Gradually the dance becomes more rhythmic, following the drums as the Nestinari dance, first making a cross in the coal to honour the saints, then continuing in a circle. It's very common for the crowd to fall in trance too, so if you're an emotional creature, bring a friend to keep you away from the coal! :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8vPckBOGb0

Seriously, I've seen it once many years ago and it's a lifetime experience. The drums themselves are so powerful and the feeling is surreal! Nestinari is an act of sacrifice, cleaning and surrendering. It's a culmination of spirit ruling over the matter as Nestinari never get hurt or burned. It's faith against all else, mind against all we see and touch, it's about the most important being known with the heart not with the brain. :)

While there are Nestinari attractions for tourists along the seaside, the place to truly understand the symbolism and the meaning of the ritual remains only Bulgari in the Strandza mountain.

I've been reading - The Messenger

Klaus Joehle, "The Messenger":

“‘They’re not really stupid.  They just act like that because they’re scared.’”

“‘Scared of what?’”

“‘They’re scared of everything; scared of not being loved, scared of too much Love, scared of dying, of living, of not having enough food, scared that others will hurt them or take what they have.’  The words were just coming out of my mouth and I was listening to them the same way as he was.  ‘They’re even scared of what they don’t have, that others are better than them, of being alone, of being with people, of being made fun of, of not being liked or accepted, scared that something will go wrong, and sometimes they’re scared even when things go right.  They’re scared of those who are not so scared, and most of all, scared of each other.’”

“‘So?’ he asked with a puzzled look on his face.”

“‘Fear can drive you to do very unloving things.  It can even drive people crazy. It slowly drains all the Love out of life and leaves you with anger that can turn into hate.  It all comes down to a lack of Love.  Love is the food of the universe and everything in it.  Without Love there’s chaos, hate, anger, and fear.  Where there is Love there is peace, joy, fulfillment, trust, and abundance. That’s why things are the way they are, it’s just a matter of not being enough Love.’”

" Openly trusting

I’ve thought a lot about trust lately, partly because something has come up, that has touched that part of me that I keep so well hidden.

I wonder what it is that I’m afraid of?
 I wonder if I have really ever trusted, or if it was nothing more than a temporary illusion.
 I’ve thought about how many wonderful things I have destroyed because of my lack of trust.
There is nothing in life that I have ever come across that I couldn’t handle, yet the question remains: why am I scared?
No relationship works without trust regardless of whether it consists of friendship, Love, work or play.
It comes down to the same thing, trust.
Maybe it’s really myself that I don’t trust.
Do I trust myself, that I will pick the right whatever?
Possibly? Maybe? After all, who knows what’s right for me better than me.

I’ve heard it said that if you do what is right for you, that is selfish, but I know that if you don’t do what is right for you then that becomes destructive.  
So where is the balance?
And what will happen to me if I just say the hell with it and just trust?
Perhaps it’s whom I trust?
Well that didn’t work, did it? It appears I’m right back where I started.
Well, that leaves me with one choice, doesn’t it?
I hope that it’s not going to be as painful as my lack of trust has been.
On the other hand, Ladies First! "

I've been reading - The Prophet

"The Prophet"
Jubran Khalil Jubran  (Gibran Kahlil Gibran)

***
When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God."
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.


***
Children

And a woman who held a baby against her bosom said, 'Speak to us of Children.'
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Earth Hour 2013

Today we celebrate our home. It's only an hour to make a difference. I'm spending the Earth Hour 2013 just listening to myself. Lighting candles and surrendering to the silence and to the clarity of the flame. I may even extend it and go on reading a book at candlelight. I hope you'll honour the occasion too.

*Photo courtesy of http://inspiringwallpapers.net

Whatever you decide to do tonight to celebrate Earth Hour, know you're not alone. :) http://earthhour.org/2013outcomes That's important, isn't it? Sometimes it's the only thing that really matters.

The spring of our music

There are only two bands from my youth which survived the test of time and are still part of my life: U2 and Depeche Mode. While I had the chance to not only listen to but to also work with the former, I have always somehow missed my chances with the latter. But no more! Depeche Mode are coming to Sofia again on May 12th! Last time they were here in 2006 but I was thousands of miles away. I heard so much about this show and I was so sorry I wasn't here. Being the lucky gal I am, this year I'm leaving in the summer so I'll be here for their show and I'm super excited. No, I'm actually floating around like a hot air balloon. LOL I'm sure it's gonna be glorious! There is only one little thing... how will I do my job two days later at the Bon Jovi performance? I mean... I'll be still drunk with excitement... Hopefully, I won't be humming "enjoy the silence..." LOL Anyhow, looks like another dream of mine is coming true. What can I do? I'm lucky. Fate. :)))))))))

Greetings with one of my most favourite songs: Question Of Lust: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOtRZOlE0WM . If I ever had a crush on anything, it's Martin Gore's voice. Not to mention the lyrics - simple yet telling. It's World's Poetry Day, so it's worth listening to such beautiful words. May your independence never take the place of your love because they should go together. True love is freedom. :)

Fragile
Like a baby in your arms
Be gentle with me
I'd never willingly
Do you harm

Apologies
Are all you seem to get from me
But just like a child
You make me smile
When you care for me
And you know

It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us together

Independence
Is still important for us though (we realise)
It's easy to make
The stupid mistake
Of letting go (do you know what I mean)

My weaknesses
You know each and every one (it frightens me)
But I need to drink
More than you seem to think
Before I'm anyone's
And you know

It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us together

Kiss me goodbye
When I'm on my own
But you know that I'd
Rather be home

It's a question of lust

The battle for Bulgarian Volleyball - continued...

The epic battle for the Bulgarian volleyball "Fans against Federation (and everyone else as it seems)" continues. Months after the dismissal of the national coach Radostin Stoychev and long time since the star of the national team Matey Kaziyski left, the fans keep writing letters, initiate administrative and financial procedures against the Federation (which regularly breaks the laws), and don't give up. If they were closer to Hollywood, this would make for a hell of a movie. But they are not.

 

In a relatively quiet corner of the world, Bulgaria, small, distant and isolated in its own lazy southern existence, is shaken by political instability and the battle for the volleyball could actually be seen as a matter and a sign of much bigger importance than simply a fandom inspired act of love. It could be seen as a ray of light. It gives me hope that these people are the first spring birds bringing change. Its'a a beautiful country with unfortunate government. It's a land of legends and ancient kings now possessed by greed and torn apart in an attempt to be sold in pieces. Its beauty is slowly fading under the governance of selfish and indifferent ministers. One sports federation appeared to become a symbol of all this arrogance and, thankfully, this time the line was crossed. I truly hope and pray for the success of the genuine and sincere love of all those fans out there and for their dream. I do believe dreams come true and this country desperately needs an example like that.

I've been reading - Esenin

Esenin (sometimes spelled Yesenin) is one of my favorite poets. It's only natural that he, as many others of his kind, found himself living in a world that couldn't accomodate neither his passion nor his pain. His love story with Isadora Duncan was not the medicine but many thought - the poison. May be the last drop. His death remains a mystery while there are too many questions surrounding the police report or the parts we have seen of it. Thankfully, there is little to ask when we read his poems. Some things do not need an explanation. There are some of his best works here (in English): http://vagalecs.narod.ru/yes-chron-eng.htm#You_don’t_love_me_and_don’t__feel

Sing, old man, to the bloody guitar, and

Let your fingers show natural bent.

I would choke in this drunken enchantment

You’re my last and my only friend.

Don’t you look at her wrist and the blooming

Silky shawl hanging down her head.

I was looking for joy in this woman

But I found perdition instead.

I did not know that love was infection,

I did not know that love was a plague.

She just came and feigning affection

Drove the rowdy mad, no mistake.

Sing and let me remember, brother,

Our fidgety youthful whirl.

Let her kiss, pet and fondle another,

Ah, this beautiful wicked girl!

No, no, wait. I don’t blame her or bully.

No, no, wait. I don’t damn or disgrace.

Let me sing now about yours truly

To the sound of this string of base.

Rosy vault of my days is streaming.

I’ve got plenty of golden dreams.

I have petted so many young women,

Touched and squeezed them, governed by whims.

Yes! There is bitter truth of the world

When a child I caught sight of that truth:

Troops of hounds, excited and wild,

Taking turns lick a bitch all in juice.

Why be jealous of her? I don’t get.

Being sick would mere pretext.

Our life is just bed-sheet and bed.

Our life is a kiss and a vortex.

Sing , old man! In the fateful sphere

Of these hands is a fated end.

Tell them all to f… out of here.

I will never be dead, my friend.

 

 

  * * *

You don’t love me and don’t feel compassion.

Don’t you think that now I look my best?

Though you look aside you’re thrilled with passion

As you put your arms upon my chest.

You are young, so sensitive and zealous,

I am neither bad nor very good to you.

Tell me, did you pet a lot of gentle fellows?

You remember many arms and lips. You do.

They are gone and haven’t touched you any,

Gone like shadows, leaving you aflame.

You have sat upon the laps of many,

You are sitting now on mine, without shame.

Though your eyes are closed, and you are rather

Thinking of some one you really trust,

After all, I do not love you either,

I am lost in thought about my dear past.

Don’t you call this zeal predestination?

Hasty tie is thoughtless and no good, -

Like I set up this unplanned connection,

I will smile when leaving you for good.

You will go the pathway of your own

Just to have your days unwisely spent,

Don’t approach the ones not fully grown,

Don’t entice the ones that never burnt.

When you walk with someone down the alley

Chatting merrily about love and all

Maybe, I’ll be out, walking round shyly,

And again, by chance, I’ll meet you, poor soul.

Squaring shoulders, ravishing and winning,

Bending forward, with an air kiss,

You will utter quietly: Good evening!

And I will reply: Good evening, miss.

Nothing will disturb my heart and spirit,

Nothing will perturb me giving pain,-

He who’s been in love will not retrieve it,

He who’s burnt will not be lit again.

December 4th, 1925

I've been listening - Coldplay

And so it happens, from time to time, things don't work out... No, things actually work in all possible opposite ways to what we wanted. Castles crumble. Towers in ruins. Defences fall. Dreams crash. Hopes vanish. Yet, faith remains alive. No one knows why and no one understands how but once you strenghten it, it stays there for much longer than you will actually need. You'll be back on your feet before your faith needs nurturing. It will nurture you meanwhile. Sometimes all is needed is to hang in there, hold on and relax. OK, may be not this month but next one all will work out. This past one was a test, it was a tough one but there was still light as my boy had his birthday, there was still laughter despite the crying times, there was life. As long as there is life, there is love, and as long as there is love, there is life. All is well. It's still a beautiful world. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uxt-FnNy2I

Coldplay - Don't Panic

Three quick phrases - CPR for our faith

Many of you have been writing that deep inside you believe you'll have to pay for everything you get ... That every wish come true costs something. That it's even better to settle for less hoping the payment will be reduced... I have to tell you that no one actually expects you to pay. Believe it or not. And don't mistake other people's choices in their own lives with a payment imposed on you! If you got your dream job while your uncle broke his leg, take into consideration the fact that he has made his own choices which led to the broken leg. When deep in your mind such wrong beliefs flourish, chances are they will attract precisely that - a chain of problems which then your mind will label "payment" and you'll be convinced it reached you, and from then on you'll enter the circle again. It's going to take much more than a blog post to go over all this, so I decided to just share with you three quick phrases which I consider a CPR for our faith in the generosity of all that surrounds us.

"For the good of all and the harm of none" - the universal spell of the witches. ;) Whatever happens is for the good of all and everyone will benefit, one way or another.

"Today a lovely miracle will happen to me" - start your day with the belief that at least one lovely miracle will happen to you and because it's a miracle, it's free. Miracles are not bananas and they have no price tags.

"Fate!" - each time a wish of yours come true, each time you achieve a dream, say it: "Fate!" Against fate even the most suspicious mind will not dare to fight. Your fate is to be lucky, what can you do about it? Fate! :)

I've been reading: Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while – Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul

and you learn
that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.

And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises

and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child

and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans

and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much

so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.


And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…

Love Day

Happy St. Valentine! Celebrate love today. And say it, say it! Finally, say it! Share a hug, a kiss, a confession, affection and tenderness. :) Don't hide from love and don't be afraid to love because no matter how much we hide, chances are we'll still get hurt sometime but if we never risk, we'll never win, while losing will remain part of the game. Life is about loosing your belt and taking a ride in the dark. About closing your eyes and taking a leap of faith. There is nothing worse than the things we missed. Open your heart, make someone feel truly special today and let them decide after that. Make a gift. The most precious gift of all is love, so let your love shine throughout the world. :)

Ah, and don't forget all the girsl/boys you loved before! :)))))) No matter what happened, they were part of your life and most probably were there for a reason.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fWoTeJ04GE

“If we are the same person before and after we loved, that means we haven't loved enough.”
― Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love

Vladimir Vysotsky

Vysotsky was born 75 years ago, today. He was a true bard and he sang about life but even more, he played life. He became an emblem of the legendary Taganka theatre. A great website dedicated to Vladimir Vysotsky is this one: http://www.kulichki.com/vv/eng/ And about his significance and role, one can get an impression from this passage:

"He died during the Moscow Olympics, and people abandoned their stadiums and TV sets to participate in a spontaneous memorial service. Though there had been no announcement of his death in the press, within hours everyone in Moscow knew of it, and thousands gathered near the theater, where his legendary guitar was displayed, to recite his poems and honor his memory. At the funeral a few days later, mourners jammed the streets all around the Taganka, but only a few were able to file past the coffin before it was whisked away, while someone on a rooftop with a loud voice described the scene to the pressing crowd. "After Vysotsky's funeral," said Lyubimov (Taganka's director where Vysotsky played his Hamlet), "I began to respect the people of Moscow".

And a few of my favorites by Vladimir Vysotsky:


I love you now

I love you now, in fact,
And I don't hold it back.
It's not "before", not "after" - your rays set me afire.
Whether I weep or I smile
I love you in this while,-
the future I don't want, the past I don't desire.

"I loved you" (in the past)
is worth than breathing last.
My wings are cut, and I'm restrained by tender feeling,
although the greatest poet stated once:
"I was in love with you - my love may still be living"…

As if it were disavowed, faded,
for it implies compassion, condescension,
it's what one feels for overthrown kings.
There is regret in it for something outdated,
subsided striving, softened aspiration
and disbelief in "love you" kind of things.

My current love has got
no detriment, no spot.
My age is under way - I want no venesection!
At this continuous present I do not
live in the past nor dream of future foundation.

Through thick and thin I'll get
to you somehow, you bet! -
my feet put into chains and bound with heavy irons.
But when I say "I love you", even yet
don't make me add "I will", by error or with bias.

"I will" has got a bitter connotation,
for it implies a counterfeit, decay - unpleasant,
a loophole for retreating, anyhow,
insipid poison and contamination,
slap in the face, affront upon the present,
a doubt that I really love you now.

I dream my dream in French,
it has a wide tense range,
the future and the past are different from ours.
I'm pilloried, disgraced and outraged,
The language seems to set me at defiance.

The language gap, oh my!
I am about to cry !
Yet we can work it out, we have our firm intentions.
I love you at the times which will comply
with Future, Past and Present Perfect tenses.



About our meeting
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygygqk0wlmQ

We were to meet. I waited for the day.
It felt like waiting for a terrible disaster,
But we began to live together right away,
Without fearing what might come after.

I got you out of gutter, dressed you, and
I cut the number of your doubtful connections,
You had a trail behind, without end,
A long-long trail of casual relations.

I battered, I recall, your so called friends,
I don't know why, but I just didn't like them,
Although there might have been, I sense,
Nice fellows, genuine friends, among them.

I'd do whatever you would ask me to.
I wanted every hour to be night of wedding.
One day I nearly killed myself for you,
but my attempt, thank God, was unavailing.

And if you'd waited for me on the year
When I was driven to the "country-house",
I would have stolen skies for you, my dear,
and in addition stars from Kremlin towers.

I'll give you anything, or I'll be damned!
Don't drink, don't lie, and I'll forgive you, sinner!
I'll give you Opera and Ballet and
The smaller building of the Sports Arena.

I'm not inclined to meet you now, my dove,
I'm scared of our act of love occurring,
The way the Japanese are scared of
the horror of Hiroshima recurring.



The one who's been with her before
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWSaoLpB7wc

I didn't drink or sing that night,
I stared at her with all my might.
Like children stare, like children stare.

But the one who's been with her before
Yelled out at me "You better go!"
Yelled out at me "You better go, You've no prayer!"

And the one who's been with her before
Was rude and wouldn't let it go;
But I remember, I was still sober,
I started walking towards the door,
She asked me "Stay a minute more",
She asked me "Stay a minute more, the night's not over."

But he who's been with her before
Did not forget me, I am sure,
And once in autumn, and once in autumn...
I'm out walking with my bro,
I saw them standing in a row,
I saw them standing in a row, there were eight of 'em!

And so I think, I've got my blade,
You'll never take me, just you wait!
I'll show you bastards! I'll show you bastards!
Why should I die without a fight?
I was the first to strike that night,
I was the first to strike that night, and that was justice.

But the one who's been with her before,
He cooked this plot up, I just know.
I've thought it over, I've thought it over.
When someone struck me  from behind
Varyuha screamed: "Watch out, Might!"
Varyuha screamed: "Watch out, Might!" But it was over.

To my eight woes just one reply,
And in the slammer where I lie,
There also surgeons, there also surgeons.
The doctor sliced me left and right,
All he could say was: "Hold on tight",
All he could say was: "Hold on tight",
And I was holding...

All in a glance the years flew by.
She didn't wait, and didn't try,
But I forgive her, I do forgive her.
I did forgive her, that's for sure,
But he who's been with her before,
but he who's been with her before,
Is not forgiven.

I did forgive her, that's for sure,
But he who's been with her before,
With him who's been with her before,
I will get even!



And the candles are melting
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8irsSAsv_o

And the candles are melting
Out to the aged parquet.
The rain runs down shoulders
Like silver off epaulets.
In a frenzy there fizzles
The golden champagne.
Let the past fly away,
I'm not one to complain.

In a premortal anguish
with a back-looking glance,
The scared stags bound forward
Toward the deadly advance.
Someone points his long barrel
At the innocent breast...
Let bygones be bygones,
Come what may, if it's best.

With a heartless abandon
A clever hunter takes aim
With razor-sharp arrows
Into the sunset's red flame.
In the tempest of sound
A sad note then began.
The past leaps and bounds,
Come what may, if it can.



Ballad about love
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWap5fmxCLI

When, after all, the great deluge was over,
The seas came back within their coastal lines,
Out of the foam of the receding water
The love came out softly to the land.
And, for some time, it faded in the air,
And lasted for an eon and some then.

And some eccentrics that still do exist
Inhale with their full lungs that crazy mix,
Expecting neither scolding nor reward,
And thinking they are free to breath it in
They realize one day that they fit in
Somebody else's intermittent breathing.

But remember: a feeling's like a boat
It's afloat until you realize:
That the words "I love" mean simply that
"I can breathe" and "I am still alive".

There will be plenty of despair and roaming.
The land of love is the most noble land.
The knights of love will have to go through testing
With ever higher standards and demands.
They will be separated by a distance,
Devoid of leisure, sleep without rest.

But nothing in the world can turn them back.
Those madmen do agree to pay it back,
Pay any price, their lives won't be excepted
In order to preserve and to protect
Some indiscernible and magic thread
Which love between them now has extended.

Wind and snow swept them off their feet,
Made them drunk and raised them from the dead.
'Cause remember you have neither lived,
Nor have breathed, if you have never loved.

And most of them have choked with love forever.
They can't be reached no matter what you do.
They are accounted by idle talk and rumor,
And that account is laced with pure blood.
But we will light up candles in the memory
Of those who died from the unprecedented love.

Their souls, among the flowers, will run
And their voices will blend and sound as one.
They will inhale eternity together.
And somewhere, on a fragile river cross,
A narrow bridge across the universe
Holding their breath, they will meet each other.

I will open fields to those who love!
Let them sing awake and in their rest.
I do breathe and that means I'm in love.
I'm in love and that means I exist.

I've been listening: Chill Out

My favorite Chill Out mix out there: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IaPBnBFIrYA I hope you like it. It always saves me when I'm on the verge to explode. And for a reason unknown reminds me of lilac... clouds and clouds of lilac...

*Picture courtesy of desire87.deviantart.com

Sofia Int'l Film Fest

Not much time left till SIFF starts, two months, will pass as a blink of an eye. If you're around and haven't been to SIFF, it's a good place to be. :) http://siff.bg/index.php?page=page&id=2&lang=en Unfortunately, the dates are the same as the dates I booked for a Paris trip... Now back to change the booking. Looks like my travels these days are all troublesome!