Тимонг Лайтбрингер: Записки недопросветленного [поэзия]

I've come to this for now at last -
All past no more than a dust
With dead ideals full of rust
Now blown away with fresh wind's gust.

I am much older that I seem,
No more than a chip in stream,
I am no body and no mind …
The day they die - I'll live behind.

I am the many, and still one,
All these "me"s look just so fun,
And day by day they passing by ...
It is all me - and still not I.

I have no wings - thus cannot fly,
There are no means to make a try,
And still I say - the heavens' mine,
In own dreams I soar just fine.

But what I do - I do for me,
It is myself whom I make free,
It's only I who sees the change
And all the rest may find it strange.

And in the way to consciousness skies
I have been given one small prize
Which is a key to final cage -
This given word will free the sage.

It is a weapon, this word's blade,
From ore of stars it has been made,
And though this gift may not be perfect -
It is a wonderful side effect...

I am just a silent monk
And have no a silver tongue,
Though I'll try to sing a song
Of how deeply I have sunk.

Will I ever find the words
To describe my feelings hordes?
Will thy known how long I've prayed
To restore the faith betrayed?

But I'm willing to describe
How the bonds of love are tight,
Though it is like a bitter wine...
All in all, the song is mine.


It was month ago, no less,
I was making strong progress
On the way to saturation
Of the soul in starvation.

Praying hard in starless nights,
Hardening my spirit sights,
Strengthening my own rights
In the defect's endless fights.

Those were days of saturation
Of the soul in starvation …
But so little has been done
To become enlighted one.

And one day all this has crashed,
Own faith myself I’ve smashed,
Brought to kneels of own soul,
Failed to achieve my goal.

Woman entered my hut -
All in all, she was not heard,
Almost naked, head to torso,
Crying and afraid was also.

When she noticed me at home
All her fears have just gone,
And she moved to me at once
With her flashing, stunning glance.

Asking me to help her hide,
Doing once the thing that's right…
Stunned, shocked I have stayed
And my faith I have betrayed.

Asked me if she could sit
And my candle she has lit,
Then she told me how she ran
Through the forest by the sun.

Hoping to escape the life
That have cut her like a knife,
Telling me of former lover
And her prison in the tower.

She was married for a knight -
Cruel one, whose bonds were tight,
Who have tossed her by night
On the bed to start his .. fight.

Who has no the need for feeling,
Who loved not and hurt her being,
Who was madman of some sort...
Crying she was as she told.

And to help her come to life
In the sin I had to dive -
I embraced her that one day,
Even I saw not the way...


And she stayed within my home
To heal wounds and reborn,
To protect her I have sworn
Till I'm dead ... or she is gone.

She was one of great beauty,
She was very, very ... sweaty.
We have spent a lot of days
Walking in the sunny rays.

Thus she entered my heart,
I was to refuse her, but...
Was it heart, or was it gut
That have broken me apart?

We have used to known each other,
Feeling same to say it rather,
These were the days of sun -
We both stopped from the run.


Should I tell you what came next?
Will you ever read that text?
You may not, and I don't care -
Truly love is just so rare …

I have failed to become
Lightened one in days to come,
I have failed to achieve
Goals of mine...but feel no grief.

To the hell with sins and gain,
To the hell, I feel no pain !
To the hell with soul bows,
To the hell with all the vows !


All I feel now is the love…
It was truly way that's tough,
I don't know what will come next,
Though I've finished my text.

Speak with me when it is time -
I will tell you what is prime,
I will tell you what is right,
I shall purify your sight.

Speak with me when no one listens
Though your courage truly glistens,
Speak with me when no one hears -
I will be eternal ears,

I will be eternal eyes -
Those of universal size,
I may open many doors
And to show you where each goes,

I may help you find the way
Where you'll never be the prey,
Where you won't be rubbish shelf …
Where you will become yourself.

Where your deeds are all the right,
Where your conscience feels alright,
Where your never know the fear,
Where inspiration is so near...


But speak with me, speak at long last,
And please, get rid of this disgust
And never fear what they think,
I am your only and last link,

I am your only and last chance,
I am what's being called "six sense",
I am the vision in the light,
I am a sunray in the night.

So speak with me with me when times are hard
For I am your eternal guard
Who's granted vision to decide
What's good and bad, what's light and night.


So speak ! I'll tell you of your life
Whether you should emerge or dive,
But if your thoughts and deeds were foul
Then I will speak myself - your soul...

What does one strife for, if not success ?
Constantly pressured, each day in stress ?
What do I care ? Listen or not -
Poem's successful, still being hot.


For politician it's measured in voices,
And for musician it's all in the noises.

For the reporter - it's in sensations,
And for astronomer - in observations.

As for the priest - it's measured in souls,
And for each medic it's counted in bowels.

For common mystic it's in divinations.
What of the killer ? In annihilations.

For simple writer it's in the novels,
For complex digger it's in the shovels.

For undertaker this one's in corpse,
For the oculist this one's in orbs.

It's in new places for endless strollers
And for all merchants all in the dollars.

And for the army it's in the wars ...
Now do you see where successful one goes ?

And for the planet it's in the us.
Want be successful ? See where this goes ?


Or will prefer not to race for success,
Driving as madman, always in stress ?
Spirit success now is being so rare ...
Poem's successful ... what do I care ?