The Confessions of a Christian. Book 3. Poetry

The Confessions of a Christian. Book 3.
 
The Prologue.
You have no time to read this stupid book.
There is no reason if not just to look
On whole the world as book that written was
By Supreme Grace for Supreme Cause.
So do proceed through pages of your fate –
‘Tis never stupid, and ‘tis never late.
I hope you will enjoy your reading then;
God’s ready to excuse and understand.
            30th of April, 2008.
 
Poetic Case #2.
 
Je ne suis pas le sonnetiste, d'ailleurs
J'ai des bons mots de bon humeur.
 
0001
Look! Look! O dear, and what you see –
The world of wars and of unfree.
Who’s not in shackles pays for credit.
Who’s not on mortgage that’s to edit
His history with IRS –
And it’s no easy game of chess.
Who’s clean in taxes has his sin
That hampers freedom way unseen.
            13th of April, 2008.
 
0002
I know my age,
I know my glory,
I was not sage,
But I don’t worry.
In years to come
I’ll see The God,
And wicked some
Whose life is short.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0003 The Motif.
The prophecy is soul of my vocation.
To be prophetic is poetic due.
And if my words are troublesome to you
   There’s to be action.
The King of Heav’ns, The God, The Holy Ghost
To lead me through the life of tribulation.
He is my Lord, my Savior, and my Host
   And my vocation.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0004
The wave of river and the wave of ocean
To meet when river goes to ocean.
There are the fish, the fisher, and the birds.
The fisher’s catching fish and in the wake
Of boat of his the birds have their lot to dinner.
And so the poet, poetry and God.
The God pours poetry to world.
And poet is in wake of Church,
Or happily in Church itself
To have his lot of inspiration.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0005 To Saint Catherine.
The bride of Christ, martyr and Holy Soul! –
You lived on Earth and now you lives on High.
The Moses’ mountain now has sign
   Of blessing yours.
With Mother of The God you are
In one procession in The Kingdom is.
You worship Lord, you’re one of His –
And heart of yours is shining star.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0006
The vanity is ever to be fair.
It sleeps in heart like snake in lair.
It does the tricks that are of dirt.
It hurts and always means to hurt.
I’m vain, it’s curious how the Christian,
If to suppose this supposition –
Can love the earthly, can fear death.
It’s quite unhuman if not less.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0007 To Ferris E. Jones, The Bard of Nevada.
You know the way to be concise,
Your verse is precious and precise.
And while whole world is scourged in twist
You’re saint Nevadian melodist.
Nevada! That’s Thy glorious day –
You have your bard, he has his say.
And ages come, and ages past
Amused by Holy Muse at last.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0008
It must be Gospels likely prose
To question right have rightly pose,
To answer right have right obtain
And from obscenities abstain.
It’s glory of e-books and phones,
It’s leisure of the goofs and lones
Who are last saints of sinful age –
It has a proof in Lord’s adage.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0009 To Nevadian Poets.
‘Ne vada’ means that ‘it will do’.
That’s old Italian, and that’s true.
Nevada’s far from Tuscan land,
There stripes and stars have firm the stand.
America! You have your sun,
Your wine, your poets, and your fun.
Your fun is poets and the wine,
But sun of yours is yet of mine.
            16th of April, 2008.
 
0010 Ode on Poetry Church.
‘;;;;;;;’ means The Poet, The Creator, The Law-Maker,
And The Beginner of The Battle in Ancient Greek.
Only True Poet is Our God, The Saint Trinity.
And Biblical King David, and John Chrysostom,
And Basil The Great, and Gregory Theologian
Have created Poetry Church with many others.
The Church of Saints and Sinners,
Of people whose hearts sing Eternity.
            17th of April, 2008.
 
0011 Dedication to Father John.
You’re old Psalm-Singer of Yorkshire.
Your verse is wise, and snug
Like cozy nook in old house at fireplace,
Where always are dry red wine, hot bread,
And Holy Scripture of Old and New
Testaments of God Whom you sing
All your life just to sing Him eternally.
            17th of April, 2008.
 
0012 Ode on Windsor.
Who are you? Just new Prince-The-Bill?
Or William Windsor Great-The-Winner?
Excuse me, I am wicked sinner
With wounds you’re not to heal.
I want to know if British crown
To serve to Christ, to serve to Church –
Or British king is only clown –
  I live to watch.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0013 Ode on president George W. Bush.
George Bush is fancier of law
As International as local.
He’s either silent or the vocal
To hail the world with him in tow.
He’s president like was his father.
He’s cowboy, military chap
With many victims to his cup-
He bartered God for power rather.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0014
O, if I dare to write an ode?
O, if? I dare? To write? A what?
I have to say a lot and nothing –
There’s rather complicated task in
The contemplation of the world
Well-boyed one, and the one well-girled.
The poetry’s sophistication
Of speech in ways of its creation.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0015
I’m just ecclesiastic writer –
And rather bore – and rather blighter –
I have no sense of worst and best
And never just to fly and rest
Without thinking, praying, kneeling.
I’m singer of Saint Icons willing.
I love my God, He’s blessing me.
You don’t agree? Just watch and see.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0016
Akathistos is long the prayer –
I read it sometimes. And I dare
To read it sitting, when the must
To read it standing still and fast.
The ancient verse in Greek or Russian,
Or English, French or ev’n in Prussian
Beatifies my sinful heart.
It’s chart of glory- Great The Chart.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0017
I’m Apologia of Sin
That’s e’er to loose, and ne’er to win.
I’m smoking, drinking on occasion,
I’m superstitious, I’m invasion
In sanctuary of the past
With penitence in tears and dust –
To find salvation in the way
Where ages prayed and are to pray.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0018
There’s Holy Tomb in Jerusalem
Where Eternal Glory
Was before the world
And will be after the world.
No one ever is worthy of Lord
Save His Holy Mother
Save His Saints
Save His Church Which is His Bride.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0019
Jerusalem is place
Where God created world.
On Golgotha was created light
And divided it from darkness,
In Temple was created Adam and Eve,
In Holy Sepulcher
God finally retired.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0020
I love The God, I hate the devil.
The God is good, the devil’s evil.
That’s all I know of life of mine –
Thou, God! – art my, and I am Thine.
That’s all I have to say for now
And ever after. I know how
To glorify Eternity
To live, to love, to sing, to be.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0021
What’s love? And is it rather question?
Or only silly protestation
Against the rules, against the fate,
Against the calendar and date.
I know what’s love - it’s resurrection,
It’s food for soul, it’s God’s protection
On every element around.
I know what’s love and to abound.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0022 Ode on Palm Sunday.
To Holy City rode The Holy God.
He rode on donkey, but the people thought
He rode on Cherubims and Seraphims
And everybody shouted. And it seems
‘Hosanna!’ is the sound that’s to endure
The most polluted and the most impure.
So ever on Palm Sunday Church to sing
‘Hosanna!’ and to mystery to cling.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0023
I love my Christian Orthodoxy
Where Icon’s Saint, where candle’s waxy,
Where priest is rev’rend to his flock,
Where prophets, healers, hermits walk
To Heavens within Church of God,
Where Scripture’s Holy. So why not
To live in union with the Lord
Of Way, of Life, of Truth, of Word.
            18th of April, 2008.
 
0024
The riches often look bombastic.
What’s credit card but bit of plastic?
What’s pile of bills but lot of paper?
What’s being poor? – We’ll know that later.
And what to have in misery
To set my soul and saint and free?
Commandments, and The Church, and Prayer
To do me good – and more than fair.
            19th of April, 2008.
 
0025
It’s dangerous to be in love.
The womankind is hot the staff.
They go so quickly and so rude –
No way to get it understood.
I love to be alone, it’s better
Than dash to bed for new the fetter.
The loneliness is state supreme.
So why to marry? Why to team?
            19th of April, 2008.
 
0026
Don’t scorn ottava mia, critic.
My verse is lame, and paralytic.
And all I have desired to show –
Things worldly by unworldly Law.
The Law of God is only guide
Whether to publish or to hide
The thoughts I’ve used to entertain
For price of joy, for price of pain.
            19th of April, 2008.
 
0027
No one is ever to be blamed
Or loudly ev’n to be defamed
For clear mind and for stable reason,
If even he is Muslim, Heathen,
More over if he’s Prophet Saint
Without stains of any taint.
Peacemakering I know my stuff –
It’s God proclaimed the way of love.
            21st of April, 2008.
 
0028
The fame is rather strange the dame
And rarely worthy of her name.
She comes and goes, and when survives
Then it’s to save the many lives.
I met her, we exchanged few words,
She disappeared, I was in torts,
But soon acquired the inner peace –
I’m not the fame but God to please.
            21st of April, 2008.
 
0029
I am happy man to know
What to do, and where to go.
What to do is pray and pray.
Where to go – to Church, if may.
Suddenly I oft inspired
To look up on Saints unmired –
To take after their example –
Saintliness is best the sample.
            21st of April, 2008.
 
0030
It’s hurtful to the ways of love
If you don’t love this stuff enough.
The egoism is rather stupid,
It prays and worships only Cupid.
The selfless heart and peaceful soul
Are far from it. And on the whole
Christ only can bless us be loving
And where we’re hermits, and when doving.
            21st of April, 2008.
 
0031
I love the world when I’m alone,
The loneliness is cornerstone
Of wakefulness for fine the feeling.
When I’m in crowd – I hit the ceiling.
I’m silly, weak, obsessed with mess
That no one ever wants to bless.
So lone I pray, so in the party
I just to cry to I get off smarty.
            21st of April, 2008.
 
0032
It’s not that I loved anybody.
I was young, amorous, unwise and happy.
And every girl seemed like a bride
To be. But what happened?
I get married, left, ill, mentally unstable.
I even can’t sleep at the night
Snoring my way through its hours.
Instead I’m writing poetry.
            21st of April, 2008.
 
Poetic case #3.
               
0001 The Easter Ode.
The Christ resurrected
From the dead.
In truth He resurrected.
I am alone, it's deep Russian Easter night.
My computer is on and all is the silence around.
And my loneliness is shared.
There is The God
That knows me.
            27th of April, 2008.
 
0002  To Suzanne Rea.
O, Suzy dear! You’re soundish egg
That’s strong a soul but weak a leg.
But one a day your leg be nice –
It when you’ll come to paradise.
You’ll dance with angels, angel mine!
The walk of yours then will be fine.
O, Suzy dear! My old good friend,
I hope you trust and understand.
          
0003
Old buzzing chap, computer mine! –
You hold my songs, my notes, my letters.
Your busy being’s all for better
When you’re online, when you’re offline.
You hold the photos of Saint Icons,
The Bible, Fathers of the Church.
You help me lot, you are my torch
To light up world with Sun of Zion.
            28th of April, 2008.
 
0004
The nights unslept, commandments unfulfilled,
The psalms unsung, The Heaven unappealed
Are coming to my memory in turns
Just to remind that souls are the urns
Of spirit blessed by Holy Ghost.
They have what have, they lost what lost.
Eternal wisdom’s right the attitude
To every soul – both merciful and rude.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0005
I welcome back my golden youth
When I was silly and uncouth.
And now with all my sins on roll
I virtues of my youth extol.
No matter how unjust the time,
The fame, the gold to our prime.
When weak and disillusioned we’re
It’s only youth our blood to stir.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0006
King David brought on melodies
That are not vapid and amiss.
They serve to purpose of Divine –
They’re wise, and healthy, sweet, and fine –
They’re ever-new to every ear –
They’re brave, and to defeat the fear –
They’re free to rise to Kingdom come –
They’re yours and mine – they’re wisdom’s sum.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0007
I hear the voice of world Divine.
It’s prayer pure of yours and mine.
It’s freedom calling to release
The soul immortal just to please
Saint Trinity of Holy God.
It’s healthy life. It’s sound thought.
Voice of Eternity is clear
And easy to retain when hear.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0008
So what did I to save my soul?
I sang – song was the joyful toll.
It was the hymn of love and peace
Though was unworthy to appease
And all entirely to get
The hearts of best. And that was sad.
And sorrow leveled fortitude
In all-engulfing solitude.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0009
Encroaching on peace of others
I deadly sinned against The Fathers
Of Holy Church. There’s in their Will
God’s grace of love that does appeal
To anyone in human race
To look at heart, not at the face –
To help the neighbor to live on,
To save him from the sins he’s done.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0010
We build Empires to destroy
Then shortly after to employ
The ruins for Empires new.
So oft I do, and would be you.
Empires past to teach us trick
Not to be pompous for it’s weak.
The pomp, and glory, and disdain
Are death, unrightfulness and pain.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0011
Lipetsk’s and Tambov’s potato,
And the Krasnodar’s tomato
Soon are to adorn my table.
It’s the real, it’s no fable.
Juicy apples from old Minsk,
And the lamb from Minusinsk,
Are to come and fill my joy
With Caucasian grapes ahoy.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0012 To Fr. John (acrostic).
“Would I had been by, to have helped the old man!”
Shakespeare. The Winter’s Tale. III, 3, 110.
Too many times I thought –
“O, what to do with rhyme?”
For there’s the whole good lot
Rolls around in lifetime.
Just thing is just to write
Ode for Divinity.
Hope is a Zion’s light
Necessary and free.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0013
I have my life personalized –
My life is only Jesus Christ.
In Him alone I have my way –
The one eternal. If I may
Be not obscure and to confess
In public then there would be less
Of sense than when I’m saying firm –
My life is Christ – I’m to confirm.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0014 To His Highness – Prince Sergey Georgievich Vadbolsky (He is direct descendant by male line of Prince Yury Dolgorouky, the founder of Moscow (12th century A.C.) and belongs to House of Rurick – ancient Russian ruler).
My chappy neighbor, drink your beer.
You have the soul, you have no fear.
You’re mother’s old, your father’s dead.
Your glorious name is joy unsad.
You’re artist, painter, poet, Christian.
You know your way, you know your mission.
You blessed old Moscow with your presence.
You are old friend, it’s rare pleasance.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0015
It is the damnediest thing
If vilest vicious sin to sing.
To sing the virtues is the blessing
If openly them all professing.
I sing the virtues – ‘tis the truth –
And it’s for wholly better use.
The use of poetry is love
To one beside, to One above.
            29th of April, 2008.
 
0016
What is a love? A joke or pain?
It’s known to Abel, not to Cain.
It’s God, the virtue, blessing, cross.
It’s what I have and had when was
The lover, husband, father, now
I’m only madman. I allow
To think of me what you prefer.
What is a love? The thing to share.
            30th of April, 2008.
 
0017
My duty is to save my soul.
I’m Christian being, but the call
Of vice in heart of mine did torn
My good old soul to no return.
If not repent the day and night
I will not open daring fight
Against the law of every sin.
My soul’s immortal as has been.
            30th of April, 2008.
 
0018
I’m like the child that don’t know why
Now wants to laugh, then wants to cry.
It’s not hysterics, not the drugs,
It’s not the dream about the thugs.
It’s day-by-day my way of being,
Of singing, praying, thinking, sinning.
And only death will stop me where
I’m not all me, I’m not all there.
            30th of April, 2008.
 
0019 Imitation of Robert Burns.
So niver winter come my heart.
And ways of mine are bonnie.
I do not hae enough of smart
Though right the sort if ony.
 
0020
Looking back at life of mine
I’m not always feeling fine.
Ruthless actions, rude behavior
Are not service to the Savior.
To be blamed I ever knew
Of my sins and of my due.
Looking back at life of mine
I’m not always feeling fine.
            18th of May, 2008.
 
0021
The King of kings, the Lord of lords -
He is The Sovereign of all words
The Saint and wicked that to come
To Judgment His. There will be some
That won’t be judged, they’re above law,
They’re law itself – The Gospel. So
Who by the Word of God will live
The final mercy to receive.
            25th of May, 2008.
 
0022
I’m tired of the supposition
That Christian faith is superstition.
That everywhere on the earth
The Christian teaching’s void and false.
There is The Church, I know it well,
There is The God, there is the hell.
I’m tired of the supposition
That Christian faith is superstition.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0023
Love is a faith to be martyred –
As much I loved. As much I feared
When going was to love again.
Love is the blessing, not the stain.
So where among the mortals is
The love as pure and rare bliss.
I’m married, separated, mad –
That’s all by love – enough was said.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0024
The prudence is the only path
To life eternal – lad and lass!
Immortal chastity of prayer
Is one I’m looking for and dare.
The altars, priests, and sinners all
Is Church, is One, is one the whole.
We’re borne, we’re living and we’re dying
And when we sin the angel’s crying.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0025
So many times I thinking was
About the death, about the loss
Of time, of passions, of potention
To be the one of mortal nation.
But now I know that there’s no death
In Christ – there’s only life to bless
The day I was borne. Know, my friend,
That there’s beginning, but no end.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0026
I know best way to save my soul.
It’s not the drugs nor rock-n-roll.
It’s purity of life in God
That Christian has, but not the sod.
We drink, we eat, we’re watching movies,
We jive, skydive, we’re squares and groovies.
And when the final moment comes
We are at bay with final sums.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0027
That often happened when been young
I was unable to think-tank.
I breathed of beer, I smoked the cigars
Of Cuba in a folly meager
Not to forget to please myself
Forgetting harm to soulish health.
Now I’m disabled and I’m weak
Because before I was such freak.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0028
Maria, daughter, my dear soul! –
You’re life is simple. So don’t fall!
The sin is punishment – it’s true
For everyone and so for you.
Love mother, serve to her as slave
Of Christ and of the wisdom brave.
Be chaste, be pure, be angel mine
And there you’ll find salvation thine.
            24th of May, 2008.
 
0029
Enough I slept in sinful dream.
Enough! My eyes are clear.
My soul is seized by fear
That I am what I seem.
Once I was young, but was not wise.
The life has taught me lesson
That true love’s thing that if it dies
Then resurrects in person.
            28th of May, 2008.
 
0030
When I die what you will say?
Game is over? He’s no more?
There is nothing to deplore?
Be with him that that there may?
When I die do close my eyes.
Game is over. I’m no more.
There is nothing to deplore.
All is set and all is nice.
            2nd of June, 2008.
 
0031
Chastity defeats the every sin.
Vice is down. Virtues win.
Love your God and you will find
Heaven saint and Heaven kind.
Love your nearest and bless
Everyone, if no – confess
In repentance that you hate
All creation and your fate.
            2nd of June, 2008.
 
0032
I’m disabled and that is blessing
When with salvation toil and messing
Do overcome my soul in jiffy
Not rigorous, not one the stiffy.
I love to pray and to endure
All that my doctor cannot cure.
I’m disabled and that is gift
That brings salvation oft and swift.
            2nd of June, 2008.
 
0033
My life – be it too short or long –
Is one confession in the song.
Unheard by world I have my hope
To post to vanity my nope.
Vain glory often kills the poet,
With books and songs is often so it.
That is so awful not to meet
The Heav’nly song when God decreed.
            2nd of June, 2008.
 
0034
When I obsessed was by the mourn
And saintly-like and taciturn
My heart was beating like a bell
To tell my all, and not to tell
The secrets of the other heart.
And my confession was the chart
Where written were all sins of mine
From birth-day and along the time.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0035
Soft hands of mother knows the toil
How teach to love and not to spoil.
The pearl-pale brow of sky above
Knows all about this kind of love.
When we get borne to see the light
The evil powers start their fight.
And when we die to rest in peace
The angel comes to give his kiss.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0036
I was no angel when I loved –
Hubbub of life got me aloft.
And I mysteriously proceeded
To where I have been much more needed.
There were the poverty, decay
Of burning passions of a day.
And now when earthly angel see
I happy day am to decree.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0037
Longing eyes of girl of age
Rarely to be one of sage.
All sagacity of world
Is one song till now unheard.
Love is ultimate the gift
Sacrificing bloom and thrift
For The Providence in need
Just to have the human heed.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0038
When herdsman comes to take his flock
To barn tonight behind the lock
I think of day of Judgment come
When will rise all, and fall the some.
When paradise and hell along
Will come to hear Divine the song
Of Wisdom is, of Wisdom be
Aloud, and calm and silently.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0039
The joy of God, the people’s joy
It’s song prophetic, calm and coy.
In modest words it to point out
To saints the words to speak aloud.
And sin disdains this wisdom all
In every part and on the whole.
And children cry for consolation
Which’s human’s fate, and God’s donation.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0040
My eyes agleam with Heav’nly flame
When I am soul of mine to tame
To chastity that’s Christian due
In life and death for me and you.
God knows the ways we go on earth –
God knows what all it is and worth.
He’ll all explain in parting hour
From life of here to future our.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0041
I’m mad as maddest loony-bin
And I have nothing there to win.
And dooms of fortune do compel
My soul to go for aye to hell.
And calls of Heavens do invite
My soul to share eternal light
With saints of ages come and gone.
And where will be my soul on run?
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0042
Cold strain of melody I heard
Was song of vain and fallen world.
It’s song of times of happy youth
And of senility obtuse
Unable just to grasp the fact
That all is finished. It was act
Of prophecy about the weakness
Of mortal age, of mortal sickness.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0043 To Elena Carius.
You call the love the tenderness
You are to find, you are to bless.
Your child, your house, all you know
To-day, or knew not far ago.
But love, I think, is cause Divine
About which the righteous pine.
It can’t be found without fight
Against the vice of devil’s might.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0044
It’s music that adorns our being
In grief and merry-making feeling.
It’s mood of life to have and go
Through years and if alone be so.
The voice of keys, of strings, of pipes
Saved many times the many lives.
If there’s no music – it is hell –
For it’s no place for soul to dwell.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0045
I’m dunce and dumb though duly skilled
To be with inspiration filled.
My songs are stupid, yes they are –
For I’m no wise, and I’m no star
Of wisdom that is obliged to
The worldly ways be holding true.
I’m fool for Christ, I’m not alone
In now-a-days, in days to come.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
0046
I’m on the vigil to foretell
The ways of paradise and hell.
I’m not about cash and glory
Of other kind is all my worry.
I sing the life and death in turn
And to rejoice, and just to mourn
That I’m unable to proclaim
In fullest voice the Godly fame.
            3rd of June, 2008.
 
Poetic case #4.
 
#1
The song is soul of world as is.
It’s not device to lie and to impede
The ways of mercy.
The singer is a marvel in oneself.
He is to bring new melodies to us
Or with old ones
Just to embellish
Significance of every hour.
            6th of June, 2008.
 
#2
I love my duty
To compel the words
To rank in order of perfection.
Though I’m no genius at all
I know the way
Where stale and dirty
Won’t happen if just to observe
The ten commandments of The Gospel.
            6th of June, 2008.
 
#3
I hope I never dare to sing
The Evil of the darkest kind-
The Evil Anti-Godly.
TV and radio are full
With songs alike.
But don’t be same, The Poet!
You’ll see the light in misery.
You’ll spread the light in mystery.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#4
There happens love
Where prudence rules.
Who knows not chastity
That is unable
To love by whole the heart.
And half-heart love
Is bestial and quite inhuman.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#5
When Noah’s ark
Had started long the way
From Earth to Earth
Through troubled waters
It has one guide –
The Providence it was.
And you, The Poet,
Be alike.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#6
Who didn’t loved
That didn’t know
The Inspiration from The Heaven.
When walls are like an oil
And air is like a water.
No wine or drug
Is able to fulfill
Same feast of Absolute.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#7
When devil came
And touched my heart
With fire of temptation
I often fell.
And even now
I’m not stronghold
Of saintliness
And of the moral.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#8
I came to world to proclaim
The freedom of the pure existence.
And to succeed in it I must
Be true to Love
The One of Heaven.
And if I’m not
Forget me but don’t curse –
And even if you’ll curse me I will bless you.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#7
I loved so many times,
But loved the same –
Same image and proportion
Only color
Of hair was changing.
So why again
To dash from immortality of loneliness
To mortaldom of passion.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#8
There’s God, there’s devil,
There’s The Earth, and there is Heaven,
There are love and hatred,
There are wail and laughter,
There are tenderness and lust,
There are life and death –
And who knows difference
Is saint.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#9
The majesty of spiritual age
Is fire on altar of the heart.
In vain I searched for it in world
The outer, it’s inner thing
Unspotable from outwards,
The utter grace
Of lovely being
In Love itself.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#10
The peace of mind
So rarely is to-day
That freaks of peace
Are mostly hated
By everyone around.
And if one dares
To be in peace –
One is to hold the battle.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
 #11
Quirk of the quill
So oft is nothing
Because the plume
Have that unbeatable endurance –
It bears oft lie
And sacrilegious phrases
That are and be
Till Kingdom come.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#12
King Solomon had many wives
But only one of them
In Song of Songs.
Who’s she?
The secret love of poet?
Dramatic, tragic and unhappy?
Or mother of the future king –
The modest soul of Glory.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#13
Saint Joseph was prophetic soul.
He knew the love, he knew the inspiration.
He could forgive and not revenge.
He waited Son of God.
And in old age
With all senility of his
He dared to hope
To see The Lord.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#14
In the day when I die
Please don’t cry about me.
I’ll be happiest thing
Or old egg or the blighter
Who to come to the Judgment –
The Judgment I love
For there’s mercy
And finally peace.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#15
When father suicided
I was stunned.
There was no cry
Like in the battle
Of the long war
When hero fell
We do not cry –
We pray if can.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#16
From military family I came.
From warriors of past immortal.
Our glory is forever.
It’s not the earthly grace –
It’s written in the Heaven.
Our women were as beautiful
As flowers
Of Paradise.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#17
When angels sing
There’s silence on the Earth.
When devils curse
There’s mutiny and chaos.
I hear the angel only rarely
Most often it the devils.
But ne’er the less, but ne’er the less –
When angels sing…
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#18
I will live long enough
For just to die.
It’s obvious for me
And for Heaven.
And spent force on the Earth
I will see Paradise,
I’ll be the weakest in The Kingdom
Of Power, Glory and The Wisdom.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#19 On Saint Czar Nikolay, The Second (1868-1918-Eternity).
Nicky to his wife
And Nikolay for people.
He was the Czar
And not the last
But later.
When Royalty in Russia will be back
We will see
New Hero of The God.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#20 To Saint Czarina Alexandra.
Alix to his husband,
You’re Alexandra for The Church
Where you’re Saint
And in glory tremendous.
You were slain and survived
In the hearts of people of your crown
That is crown
Of Russian martyr.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#21 To Holy Memory of Cossack Alexey Streltsov.
The warrior of Czar
You’re slain in war
With ruthless Germans
That had come
To kill us and erase our names
From earthly memory.
This war was won
By you my Great-Grandfather.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#22
I’m Slav who does descend
From Biblical King David.
The history explains
So many riddles
Just that simple –
In time of Babylonian invasion
My ancestry went to Armenia
From there are Georgian princes and The Cossacks.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#23
I love my bread
And cozy pension.
And taxes paid and due to pay.
I love my Moscow
And the parsons
Of villages around the city
Where I have learned
To have no pride.
            7th of June, 2008.
 
#24
I’m not much versed in versifying
But sometimes when I hold my pen
I have some unintelligible something
That sparks to line
Of ode, or elegy or dedication.
I burnt my old stuff
And so many times
That new one somehow has the fire.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#25
My home is Russia
In her fields, and rivers and the lakes
I found the taste of life
Unruinable quite.
And if sometimes I wanted go abroad
I met new Russia and remained
In my old room
Where infancy had passed.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#26
In monastery where the priests
Do exorcise the evil spirits
Where all is cheap, and old, and so worn-out
That even pair of jeans
Is the indecency to utmost.
Because these people
Know nor the jeans, nor Coca-cola,
Nor even tea, so much they’re poor.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#27
No murderous intention
I do have against my enemies –
Be blessed the everyone of them.
But oldish wounds
Are thorn for soul.
The anger boils sometimes
But just to be calmed down.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#28
The rift in lute
Is to be healed with years.
The lute is heart of poet
Who disposed to good.
His inclination clear and pure –
He knows not envy,
And his home
Is temple of The Lord of poets.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#29 On Saint Royal.
There is one Icon
And her name Saint Royal.
There are The Heav’nly Father,
Virgin Mary and Lord Jesus Christ.
By miracle this Icon
Was found on day
When Czar resigned from power
And so now Russia’s ruled by Icon.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#30
No reason why is cause enough
For blasphemy
Just if we knew
The love in ourselves
We knew the Love Divine.
It’s righteous and aye fair.
But busy mind are oft unable
To love the higher purpose.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#31
When I was very young
I loved The Beatles.
Now I can but hardly listen to their songs.
There are no more of John and George.
They died.
And only Christian
Sir Paul and Ringo have survived.
And that’s the way of life.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#32
Grandfathers stormed Berlin
In 1945. It was the spring
Of our victory
Against The Nazi.
And after war
Grandfathers fed poor people
With bread of soldiers of theirs –
And so the war was won.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#33 To His Royal Highness Samuel Melkonian (Armenian Royal House).
Lieutenant, paratrooper, wrestler, Christian.
We met in Church.
Where else we could have met?
You can be king, I’m never
But we’re friends,
And our kingdom
Is not on Earth,
But in The Heaven.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#34 Ode on Saint Ascension Day.
The Lord ascended to The Heavens.
Apostles cried.
To keep the blessing
They went away on different the roads.
And Rome was baptized by Saint Peter,
And India was baptized by Saint Thomas,
And Russia baptized was by Thou, Saint Andrew, The First-Called,
And whole the world was baptized in the tears of Most Saint Mary.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#35
To what to attribute atrocities of age
When half a world is in starvation
While petty number
Of the humans
Is wellish off.
We scourged by avidness of ours.
And children dies
As heroes.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#36
It’s a sin
To have no love.
It’s a sin
To have no faith.
It’s a bliss
To be alone.
It’s a bliss
To have no place.
            8th of June, 2008.
 
#37
Austere the stare
Of devote
Is not unfairness
Of bigot.
It’s look of mild
And full surprise
Austere the stare
Of Mary’s eyes.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#38
My sins will kill me one a day
Till then I’ll live in comfort full.
I was no wise, but only fool
That has his song to sing and play.
I’m sly ev’n when I pray and so
What is a hope of disregard
The honor high I did discard
To-day and all the days ago.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#39
I’m sinner – one inveterate.
I could have been the poet – one of Great.
But I became the singer of
The songs I’m getting from above.
There’s no the greatness just the duty
Of cracked a mug, of spilled a pewter-
The uselessness of nothingness.
I’m vain as vanity world has.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#40
Picking up the duly tune
That can be like sun in noon
Is a choice of strained the heart –
It just can’t be disregard
For the segregated hearts
That are used to disregards.
Melody to come from One
Who created noon of sun.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#41
Dominion of the domicile
Are poets of the words of rank and file.
From simple comes the complicated
And inspiration when donated
To disentangle mortal frame
From any vanity of fame.
The song has the own high value.
If you agree – great poet’s you.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#42
The love forever is and be
And if you love from death you’re free.
Love cannot die – immortal thing
The love to live, to sing, to bring
The sweetness of the distant fruit
That was not tasted by the brute.
This fruit is held in Paradise.
And that is fair because it’s nice.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#43
I love my God, it’s awful truth.
It’s only of my earthly use.
I have not foggiest how I
About to live, about to die.
But there are omens, ones I see,
There are the saints in nightly dreams.
And what to be? And what to be?
Not what it seems! Not what it seems!
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#44
I sang too long, let’s finish book.
The inspiration’s strange the brook.
It’s holy spring of water clear
If poet had his Godly fear.
If no – it’s puddle, mud and ocean
Of disrespect of due devotion
Of God, who Love is, who’s the Poet
Of all creation aye and so it.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#45
What’s neoclassicism? It’s thought’s the store
The wholesome one, the Christian to the core
We meet in Bible, in The Fathers
Of Church, in songs of the our mothers.
It’s always new, it’s never old and stale,
It takes the soul on risky bail
To keep it safe in day and night.
It’s Word of God, it’s pow’r and might.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
#46 To Saint Barbara.
You were martyred by your own father.
O, what a fate! Unhappy? Rather.
But Heav'nly Father came to you
With blessing that deserved a few.
You help the homeless, help the brides
To make their lot more happy. And at nights
You come to lonely to console
Their broken-down-ness of soul.
            9th of June, 2008.
 
The Epilogue.
My lyre’s about to get calm.
Book’s finished. And there is no qualm
About the future – it is modest,
It’s not the hit, the one of hottest.
It’s meditation of the man
That anyone can understand.
So go, my book, through ages come –
And without fear, and without qualm.
            3rd of June, 2008.

To Be Continued.
In Christ We Win!
Christ Resurrected And We’ll Resurrect!
Sergey Streltsov.