Перевод четвертой главы "Знакомство с Тенью"
http://www.stihi.ru/2017/11/06/3757
The most glorious and sweet moment is when you begin to Wake up, but by the effort of will you still do not allow the consciousness to Wake up to the end. This is Holy time. This is the time of the controlled dream. I wish you can zoom in a parallel world in which things are moving quite well, as if full revival, when the desired and actual cease to be the essence of one and the same. Which is a pity. The better it turns out to control sleep, the more you want to stay there, and the harder it is to get out of it.
During the day you live with the expectation of the evening and the fear that you can forget your last dream, and in the evening, falling asleep, you pray to all the saints that a deep sleep does not come too quickly…
So what was that dream about? One last thing like a TV series or soap Opera is rolled every night, like the surf, barely letting go in the morning…
I saw myself.... But strange.... The way I am: unvarnished, in my own body, aware of my age and my shortcomings.... And next – SHADOW. Or maybe it is not a shadow, but something quite material, tangible, which can be touched, whose warmth can be heard by the skin? But the outlines are so blurred ... so for now let it be just a Shadow.
Pictures of the landscape surrounding us, me and the Shadow, changed like a kaleidoscope: the foyer of the theater, the twilight of the cafe, falling leaves, people voices and silence…
Gentle hands on my shoulders, weak breath near the neck, light music, barely audible as the rustle of the wind, make me sway from side to side. Smoothly, slowly, as if to the beat of the sea wave. Shadow's hands glide over my shoulders, dress with a strongly open bodice does not prevent to feel the increasing heat coming from the Shadow. Fingers like the wings of a bird, weightless glide on my skin: neck, back, chest...the Heat is getting stronger, and starts to pass me. Gently, barely touching, he shifts the ribbon dresses from the shoulders, and it is falling to my feet... Hot! Unbearably hot! I want to stand under a cold shower! But this is not real, and I understand that my controlled dream is no longer subject to me – it is out of control: the Shadow will not let me go, but it does not anger, does not irritate, on the contrary-fascinates. I let the Genie out of the bottle myself, and like any Genie, he demands payment.
The head starts to spin, the dress rustling underfoot. Not only do I hear the heat of the Shadow, but I feel its touch on my back, but there is no strength or desire to think about it.
His lips gently touch the lobe of my ear, caressing the neck, and his hands more passionately embrace me, embrace, explore all the bulges of my body. Consciousness is bifurcated, not having time to watch: hands... lips... breath... voice.... How does he manage everything at once? Shadow! Ghost! But no, the gentle, almost disembodied... all the more clearly felt the flesh... Gene is released from the bottle and he starts to attack…
It's not enough for him to just feel me, he wants to see my eyes.... And here he is before me. He's tense, but smiling.... Afraid of hurting me? Weirdo, I'm the one who summoned him from the darkness of night, from the twilight's dream. He knows it, he feels me and, looking into my eyes, dissolves in them. Not just them.... Starting with consciousness, the Shadow cleanses the body... Shiver. Voltage. Movement. Calm, kissing, fluttering hands and again storm... Explosion!
Eyes! I see them, but I can't understand: I just fall into them. With the onset of the morning, I will regret that again I could not remember the image of the Shadow, but it is better – it frees me from trying to find a similar image among others. This does not completely merge the two realities: light twilight and time. After all of the darkness I called Shadow... I fear her power over me, but I don't want her to let me go! It's early-the night has just begun. Hot!
Cold water burns the skin, helps to calm thoughts, but only for a moment. Shadow won't let me, does not relax, to go into a deep sleep. Me again shadow envelops like a soft blanket…
I cease to realize a dream is this a dream? I let go of my mind, let it dissolve completely in my body. Shadow entangles me like cobwebs, impose a rhythm, and I obey him.I don't have the strength to fight. And there is no desire to win. Isn't that why I let Gene into my twilight? Light, barely audible music continues to sound. It is not so Intrusive and in the morning I will not be able to remember the motive, and therefore here I will be disappointed: I will not try to hear it in reality.
Sigh, splash, shower, sigh, splash, movement ... Waves rolls long forgotten languor. The body begins to ache, numb, and the feeling of hunger still does not pass.
Unwittingly I'm going to another level of gloom – falling into a deep sleep.
Twilight light breaks through the curtains. Dawn is coming. I'm trying to catch an elusive dream, but it dissolves with the rest of the gloom. How long was I asleep? An hour? Two? I both want and don't want to sleep. As if stuck between two worlds, the fullness of which I am not able to evaluate.
Trying to somehow delay the dissolving vision, I frantically repeat to myself the key words left over from sleep. Shadow, Dusk, Warmth, Music ... what else? But these words are beginning to blur in my mind, and I realize that again fall asleep. But this is not the dream, deep, unusual, and easy, pre-dawn.
The alarm clock does not have time to ring, announcing the beginning of the day, and I already open my eyes. I try to remember something very important that happened to me recently. And bitterly realize that it is not so simple. What happened? As I fold back my blanket, I look back at myself: nothing has changed. Same body, same thoughts.... Or not? The room is bright, but, strangely, it seems to me that a white ceiling, I see an Eye. Eye.... And I feel a light, unearthly smell. I heard him. It came from a shirt thrown at a window in a summer cafe.... And now. Maybe it's the smell of a world that opens to me his Eye? But I never felt it before, did I?
Before the eyes there are eye. They're glowing, but I can't tell anything apart from the light. No eye color, no shape.
It's neither scary nor disturbing. This is taken for granted. And I begin to understand answering my question about the Keeper of dreams-who is he? I still do not know the answer to this question, but I understand that I am on the threshold of this knowledge, on the threshold of a meeting with the unknown. The day will run fast, and in the evening, before going to bed…
I feel good. Grabbing a dream for its very edge, I did not let him go into oblivion. I know that you just want, only to call the Guardian of dreams, and my story would repeat again... And maybe it will be a different story?