One day they ll call me your faithful Hachiko...

                -.-.-.-.-.-.-
                (Translation into English is provided below)

(Îòðûâîê èç ðîìàíà «Ãóðó.È è åãî ïòèöà».)
Êíèãà â íàñòîÿùåå âðåìÿ íàõîäèòñÿ â ïðîöåññå íàïèñàíèÿ.)


ÌÅÍß ÊÎÃÄÀ-ÒÎ ÍÀÇÎÂÓÒ ÒÂÎÅÞ ÂÅÐÍÎÉ ÕÀÒÈÊÎ...

             * * *
ÏÐÈÌÈ ËÞÁÈÌÛÉ ÇÀÏÎÇÄÀËÎÅ - ÏÐÎÑÒÈ
ÒÅÏÅÐÜ...ß ÃÎÂÎÐÈÒÜ - ÏÐÎÑÒÈ - ÓÌÅÞ...
ÒÎÒ ÇËÎÉ *ÐÅÁ¨ÍÎÊ* ÍÀ ÒÂÎ¨Ì ÊÎÐÎÒÊÎÌ ÆÈÇÍÅÍÍÎÌ ÏÓÒÈ
×ÒÎ ÓÍÈÆÀË ÒÀÊ ÄÎËÃÎ ÂÎÈÍÀ  ÒÅÁÅ - ÒÅÏÅÐÜ...ÂѨ ÈÑÏÛÒÀÅÒ ÍÀ ÑÅÁÅ
ÊÀÊ ÒÛ ËÞÁÈË... - ß  Î ÒÀÊÎÉ ËÞÁÂÈ ÌÅ×ÒÀÒÜ ÍÅ ÑÌÅÞ...
ÑÌÎÒÐÞ ÊÀÊ ÐßÁÜ ÍÎ×ÍÎÃÎ ÌÎÐß ÑËÈÂÀßÑÜ Ñ ÍÅÁÎÌ ÓÏËÛÂÀÅÒ Â ÒÅÌÍÎÒÓ
ÒÛ Â ÝÒÎÌ ÌÈÐÅ ÒÎ×ÍÎ - ÁÛË...È ÌÎÆÅÒ ÑÍÎÂÀ ÇÄÅÑÜ...
 ÒÎÌ ÌÈÐÅ ÃÄÅ ÑÅÉ×ÀÑ - ÌÅÍß ÒÛ ÏÎÌÍÈØÜ ÈËÈ... ÏÎÇÀÁÛË...
À ÌÎÆÅÒ ÇÍÀß ×ÒÎ ß ÑÍÎÂÀ ÏÎËÞÁËÞ ÒÂÎÐÅÖ ÒÅÁß Â Í¨Ì - ÍÀÊÀÇÀÍÜÅÌ ÌÍÅ ßÂÈË...?!

............................                * * *

ÌÎÈ - ÓÏÐßÌÑÒÂÎ ÐÅÇÊÎÑÒÜ ÍÅÏÎÊÎÐÍÎÑÒÜ ÍÅÏÐÈÂÛ×ÍÛÅ ÑÒÎËÜ ÄËß ÒÅÁß
ÏÎÊËÎÍÅÍÈÅ - ÂÎÒ ×ÒÎ ÎÁÛ×ÍÎ... ÄÀÍÜ - ÄÎÑÒÎÈÍÑÒÂÓ ÊÎÐÎËß...
ÄËß ÌÅÍß Æ ÍÅ ÑÅÊÐÅÒ - ÏÐßÌÎÒÀ È ÍÀÈÂÍÎÑÒÜ ÌÎÈ - ÒÛ ÎÁÈÄÎÉ ÈÕ ÌÅÐÈË
ÎÑÊÎÐÁËßßÑÜ ÍÀ ØÓÒÊÈ ÌÎÈ - ÍÅ ØÓÒß..(
ÍÅ ÆÅËÀß ÏÐÈÍßÒÜ ×ÒÎ ØÓÒÈËÈ Ñ ÒÎÁÎÞ - ËÞÁß..(

À ÅÙ¨... ÎÁÅÙÀÍÜÅ ÑÂΨ ÍÅ ÈÑÏÎËÍÈËÀ ß -
ÇÍÀÊ ÈÇÂÅÑÒÍÛÉ ÒÅÁÅ ÎÑÒÀÂËßÒÜ... ×ÒÎ ÍÀÏÈÑÀÍÎ - ÄËß ÒÅÁß...
ÍÎ... ×ÒÎ ÆÅ ÄÅËÀÒÜ ÊÎËÜ ß ÏÎÍßËÀ -
×ÒÎ ËÞÁÎÉ ÒÂÎÉ ÔÀÍÀÒ ÐÀÇÃÀÄÀÅÒ ÑÅÉ ÐÅÁÓÑ ÈÃÐÀÞ×È...
ÏÎÒÎÌÓ - ÎÒÊÀÇÀËÀÑÜ È...ÏÎÕÎÆÅ ×ÒÎ ÑÍÎÂÀ ÎÁÈÄÅÂ ÎÏßÒÜ ÆÅ - ËÞÁß
ÁÅÇ ÊËÞ×ÅÉ Ê ÏÐÅÌÈÐÅÍÜÞ ÎÑÒÀËÀÑÜ..(

È ÁËÓÆÄÀÞ ÎÄÍÀ ÑÐÅÄÈ ÑËÎÂ ÒÂÎÈÕ ÃÎÐÜÊÈÕ...
ÊÀÊ ÑÐÅÄÜ ÄÈÊÎÃÎ ËÅÑÀ - ÒÀÌ... ÃÄÅ ÂѨ ÍÅÑÏÐÎÑÒÀ...
ÒÀÌ...ÃÄÅ Ñ ÂÅÒÊÈ ÍÀ ÂÅÒÊÓ
ËÅÒÈÒ ÂÑËÅÄ ÇÀ ÌÍÎÉ ÒÀ ÓËÛÁÊÀ...ÊÎÒÎÐÀß - ÁÅÇ ÊÎÒÀ...
È ÂÛÕÎÄÈÒ ÏÎ ÒÐÎÏÊÅ ÍÀÂÑÒÐÅ×Ó ÌÓÄÐß×Àß ÌÓÄÐÎÑÒÜ - ÌÎß ÌÀËÅÍÜÊÀß ÑÅÑÒÐÀ
ÒÀ...ÊÎÒÎÐÓÞ ËÞÄÈ ÏÐÎÇÂÀËÈ - ÀËÈÑÀ... ÑÎÒÂÎÐßÞÙÀß ×ÓÄÅÑÀ...
ÂÎÒ ÎÍÀ Ñ ÒÅÏËÎÒÎÞ ÂÎËØÅÁÍÎÉ ÌÎÞ ÐÓÊÓ ÑÂÎÅÞ ÐÓÊÎÞ ÂÇßËÀ
ÏÎÒÎÌ ÑÎÂÅÒ ØÅÏÍÓ ÍÅÌÍÎÃÎÑËÎÂÍÛÉ - ÏÎÌÀÍÈËÀ ÏÀËÜ×ÈÊÎÌ ÓËÛÁÊÓ ÁÅÇ ÊÎÒÀ...È
ÑÊÐÛËÀÑÜ Ñ ÍÅÞ Â ×ÀÙÅ ÊÀÊ ÂÑÅÃÄÀ ÌÃÍÎÂÅÍÜÅ ÈÑ×ÅÐÏÀ - ÊÎÃÄÀ  ÍÅÉ ÅÑÒÜ ÍÓÆÄÀ
ÌÅÍß ÎÑÒÀÂÈÂ... Ñ ÏÐÀÂÄÎÉ... ÁÅÇÓÑËÎÂÍÎÉ...

È Â ÂßÇÊÎÉ ÒÈØÈÍÅ ÌÎÈ ÐÀÇÄÓÌÜß Â ÖÅËÅÁÍÛÕ ÇÂÓÊÀÕ ËÅÑÀ ÓÒÎÏÀÞÒ
ÈÇ ÏÎÄÑÎÇÍÀÍÜß Â ÊÎÅÌ ÑÏÐßÒÀËÀÑÜ ÀËÈÑÀ ÝÔÈÐÎÌ ÍÅÆÍÛÌ Å¨ ØÎÏÎÒ ÂÎÇÂÐÀÙÀÞÒ -

ÏÐÈÁÅÐÅÃÈ ËÞÁÎÂÜ ÑÂÎÞ - ÄËß ÒÎÃÎ ÊÒÎ ÁÓÄÅÒ ×ÓÂÑÒÂ ÒÂÎÈÕ ÄÎÑÒÎÈÍ
ÎÒ ÊÎÃÎ ÒÛ ÍÅ ÓÑËÛØÈØÜ - ÍÅ ËÞÁËÞ...ÊÒÎ ÊÀÊ ÌÈÍÈÌÓÌ Â ÄÓØÅ - ÎÒÂÀÆÍÛÉ ÂÎÈÍ...
ÊÒÎ ÁÓÄÅÒ ÆÈÇÍÜ ÒÂÎÞ - ËÅËÅßÒÜ ÊÀÊ ÑÂÎÞ...
ÒÎÃÄÀ - ÎÍ ÒÎ×ÍÎ ÒÎÒ - ÊÒÎ ×ÓÂÑÒ ÒÂÎÈÕ - ÄÎÑÒÎÈÍ...

 ÐÅÀËÜÍÎÉ ÆÈÇÍÈ ÍÅ Â ÊÈÍÎ...ÊÎÃÄÀ ÍÅËÅÏÎÅ ÌÛ ÂÈÄÈÌ - ÍÀÌ ÑÌÅØÍÎ...
ÒÀÊ È... ÊÎÌÔÎÐÒÍÛÌ ÑÒÀÒÜ ÑÎÃËÀÑÍÛÉ...
ÂÇÎÐÂÀÂØÈÉ ×ÅÉ ÒÎ ÌÈÐ...ÏÐÎÉÄß ×ÅÐÅÇ ÍÅÃÎ
ÍÅ ÇÀÌÅ×ÀÅÒ - ÊÀÊ ÄÀÂÍÎ...ÎÍ ÊÎÃÎ ÒÎ ÄÅËÀÅÒ ÍÅÑ×ÀÑÒÍÛÌ...

ÂÎÒ ÒÛ... ÃËÀÇÀÕ ÄÐÓÃÈÕ - ÒÛ ÈÑÊÐÅÍÍÈÉ È ÍÅÆÍÛÉ
ÂÅÑÜ ËÀÑÊÎÂÛÉ - ÍÅ ÑÌÅÞÙÈÉ ÎÁÈÄÅÒÜ...
ÍÎ ÏÎ×ÅÌÓ ÄËß ÍÈÕ...ÄÐÓÃÈÕ...ÍÅ ÄËß ÌÅÍß...
ÊÀÊ ÁÓÄÒÎ ß ÑËÅÏÀ ×ÒÎÁ ÃÐÓÁÎÑÒÜ ÐÀÇÃËßÄÅÒÜ...
ÒÎ ÙÅÄÐ È ÍÅÆÅÍ...ÍÅÓÊËÞÆ ÒÀÊ ÌÈËÎ...
ÍÎ...ÃÄÅ ÒÎ Â ÝÒÎÌ ÌßÃÊÎÌ ÌÈØÊÅ
ÏÎÐÎÉ ÐÛ×ÀÙÈÉ ÏÐß×ÅÒÑß ÌÅÄÂÅÄÜ
...........................
ÇÀ×ÅÌ...ÎÁ ÝÒÎÌ ÇÍÀÞ ÒÎËÜÊÎ ß..?!
ÍÀÂÅÐÍÎ...ß ÄÎËÆÍÀ ÁÛÒÜ ÏÎËÜÙÅÍÀ ÄÎÂÅÐÈÅÌ ÒÀÊÈÌ...
×ÒÎ ÌÍÅ ÎÒÊÐÛÒÀ ÝÒÀ ÑÒÎÐÎÍÀ ×ÒÎ ÍÅÄÎÑÒÓÏÍÀ ÍÈÊÀÊÈÌ ÄÐÓÃÈÌ...
È ÄÀÆÅ ÒÂÎÈÌ ÁËÈÇÊÈÌ È ÐÎÄÍÛÌ...ÍÎ...ÊÒÎ ÑÊÀÇÀË ×ÒÎ ÌÍÅ - ÎÍÀ ÍÓÆÍÀ..(

Î... ÌÎÉ ÊÎÐÎËÜ...ÒÂÎÉ ÝÃÎÈÇÌ - ÍÅ ÏÎÁÅÄÈÌ...(
È... Â Í¨Ì ( ÊÀÊ ÇËÀ ÈÐÎÍÈß...) - ÒÂÎß ÆÅ - ÑÈËÀ...(

ÒÛ ÎÑÊÎÐÁË¨Í ×ÒÎ ß ÓÂÈÄÅËÀ  ÒÅÁÅ ÍÅÐÀÇÓÌÍÎ-ÂËÀÑÒÍÎÅ ÄÈÒß
ÍÎ ÂѨ Æ... ÊÀÇÀËÎÑÜ ÌÍÅ ×ÒÎ ÒÛ ÄÎÑÒÀÒÎ×ÍÎ Ǫ́Í
×ÒÎÁÛ ÏÎÍßÒÜ - ×ÒÎ ÍÅÇÀ×ÅÌ... È... - ÇÐß...
ÍÀÌ ÇÀ ×ÅÐÒÓ ÏÅÐÅÑÒÓÏÀÒÜ...ÂÅÄÜ ÒÀÌ -
ÔËÀÆÊÈ...È ÍÀÌ ÇÀ ÍÈÕ - ÍÅËÜÇß...
............................
ÇÀ ÏÐÅÄÀÍÍÎÑÒÜ È ÂÅÐÍÎÑÒÜ ×ÓÂÑÒ ×ÒÎ ß ÑÅÉ×ÀÑ ÑÊÐÛÂÀÞ ÒÀÊ ÎÒÂÀÆÍÎ
ÃÎÐÄßÑÜ ÑÎÁÎÞ... ×ÒÎ È ÏÐÀÂÄÀ - ÍÅ ËÅÃÊÎ - ß ÍÅ ÑÒÛÆÓÑÜ...
×ÒÎ ÍÀÇÎÂÓÒ ÌÅÍß ÎÄÍÀÆÄÛ ÒÂÎÅÞ ÂÅÐÍÎÉ-ÒÅÐÏÅËÈÂÎÉ ÕÀÒÈÊÎ.

            * * *


(Excerpt from the novel *Guru.I and His Bird.*
The book is currently in the process of being written.)


translation by Guru.I  22.05.2024   Tel-Aviv   
    ÏÈÒÅÐÊÀ
  * * *
One Day I Would Be Called Your Faithful Hachiko...
Piterka Badmaeva Olga


One day they would call me your faithful Hachiko...

Accept, my love, this belated plea – forgive.
Now... I have learned to say – forgive me.
That cruel child along your brief path in life,
Who for so long humiliated the warrior in you –
Now… they will feel it all themselves.
The way you loved... I can’t even dare to dream of such love.
I watch as the rippling night sea merges with the sky,
Sinking into the darkness.
You truly were in this world… and maybe you’re here again,
In that place where you now reside – do you remember me, or… have you forgotten?
Or perhaps, knowing I will love again,
The Creator sent you there as my punishment...?

My stubbornness, sharpness, and defiance, so unfamiliar to you,
You were accustomed to worship –
A tribute to the dignity of a king.
For me, it wasn’t a secret –
You measured my straightforwardness and naivety as offense,
Taking playful teasing as hurtful truths.
Unwilling to accept that the jokes shared with you
Were born of love.

And yet... I broke a promise to you –
To leave a sign you’d recognize,
To write something meant just for you.
But... what could I do, realizing
That any of your fans would unravel the riddle with ease?
And so, I refrained,
Likely hurting you again... out of love.
Without the keys to reconciliation, I was left adrift.

Now I wander alone among your bitter words,
Like in a wild forest... where nothing is by chance.
There, from branch to branch,
Follows me the smile without a cat...
Until, stepping onto the path, comes my wise little sister –
The one people call Alice, the creator of wonders.

She takes my hand with a magical warmth,
Whispers a brief, sage advice,
Beckons the smile without a cat with a finger,
And disappears into the thicket,
Vanishing the moment her help is no longer needed,
Leaving me... with the unconditional truth.

In the viscous silence,
My thoughts dissolve into the healing sounds of the forest.
From the subconscious, where Alice hides,
Her tender voice returns, like a gentle ether:

"Save your love
For the one who is worthy of your feelings,
Who will never say, ‘I don’t love you,’
Who, at the very least, is a brave warrior in spirit,
Who will cherish your life as their own.
Then you’ll know they are truly worthy of your love."

In real life, not in movies,
Where clumsy things make us laugh,
Even the comfortable can become destructive.
One who disrupts someone’s world, passing through it,
Doesn’t notice how long they’ve left someone unhappy behind.

And you... in the eyes of others, you are sincere and tender,
So kind, incapable of causing hurt...
But why for them, and not for me?
As if I am blind, unable to see the harshness.
Sometimes generous and gentle, endearingly awkward,
But within this soft teddy bear,
Hides a roaring bear at times.

Why... do I alone know this?
Perhaps I should feel flattered by such trust,
That I am allowed to see a side
Hidden from everyone else, even those closest to you.
But... who said I needed it?

Oh, my king... your ego is unconquerable...
And within it (ironically so)... lies your strength.

You are offended that I saw in you
An irrational, domineering child.
But still, I thought you wise enough
To understand – it is in vain,
There’s no reason for us to cross the boundary,
Where the flags stand – forbidden territory.

For the loyalty and patience in my hidden feelings,
I stand proud of myself... though it’s not easy.
I am not ashamed
That one day they will call me your faithful, patient Hachiko.

     * * *


Ïåðåâîä Guru.I (literal) 10.12.2025

ONE DAY THEY WILL CALL ME YOUR FAITHFUL HACHIKO

         * * *

Accept, my beloved, this belated “I’m sorry”.
Now... I know how to say “forgive me”...
That wicked “child” on your short life’s road,
who for so long humbled the warrior in you –
will now feel it all on herself.

How you loved... I do not dare to dream of such a love...
I watch how the ripples of the night sea,
merging with the sky, sail off into the dark.
You were definitely in this world... and maybe you are here again...
In that world where you are now – do you remember me, or... have you forgotten...
Or maybe, knowing that I will love again,
the Creator has placed you there as my punishment...?!

My stubbornness, sharpness, defiance – so unfamiliar to you.
Worship – that is what is usual... a tribute to a king’s dignity...
But it is no secret to me that my bluntness and naivety –
you measured them as an insult,
taking offense at my jokes – in dead earnest,
unwilling to accept that we were joking with you – out of love.

And besides... I did not keep my promise –
to leave the sign you knew,
that what is written – is meant for you...
But what was I to do, once I realized
that any of your fans would solve this riddle in no time...
So I refused and... it seems that once again
I hurt you, still out of love,
and was left without any keys to making peace.

And I wander alone among your bitter words,
like in a wild forest – there... where nothing happens for nothing...
There... where from branch to branch
that smile flies after me... the one that is without the cat...
And along the path comes toward me wise little Wisdom – my little sister,
the one people named Alice... the maker of miracles...

Here she is – with magical warmth she takes my hand in hers,
then, whispering a brief piece of advice,
she beckons the smile-without-the-cat with her finger, and
vanishes with it into the thicket, as always,
once the moment is spent – when there is need of her,
leaving me... with truth... unconditional...

And in the viscous silence
my reflections sink in the healing sounds of the forest.
From the subconscious, where Alice has hidden,
her whisper returns like gentle ether –

Save your love – for the one who will be worthy of your feelings,
from whom you will not hear “I don’t love you”...
the one who is at least in his soul a brave warrior,
who will cherish your life as his own...
Then – he is exactly the one
who is worthy of your feelings...

In real life, not in a movie...
when we see something absurd – we laugh...
In the same way... the one who agrees to become “comfortable”,
having blown up someone’s world, having walked through it,
doesn’t notice how, for a long time now,
he has been making someone unhappy...

Take you... in the eyes of others – you are sincere and gentle,
all tender – not daring to hurt...
But why is that for them... the others... and not for me,
as if I were blind, unable to see the roughness...

Now generous and gentle... clumsy in such a sweet way...
But... somewhere inside this soft teddy bear
at times a growling bear is hiding.

Why... am I the only one who knows this..?!
Probably... I ought to be flattered by such trust,
that this side of you is open to me,
a side inaccessible to anyone else,
and even to your loved ones and kin...
but... who said that I need it..

Oh... my king... your egoism is unbeatable,
and in it (like a cruel irony...) lies your very strength.

You are offended that I saw in you
an irrational, domineering child,
and yet... it seemed to me that you were intelligent enough
to understand that there is no point... and that it would be in vain
for us to cross that line... for there
there are flags... and beyond them – we must not go...

For the dedication and loyalty of feelings
that I am now hiding so bravely,
proud of myself... that indeed – it is not easy – I am not ashamed
that one day they will call me your faithful, patient Hachiko.

                * * *
....................................



Ïåðåâîä Guru.I (poetic version)10.12.2025
Someday They’ll Call Me Your Faithful Hachiko

          * * *

Accept, my love, this late, delayed forgive —
only now I’ve learned to say I’m sorry.
That wild, cruel child who walked beside your brief life’s road,
who mocked and humbled down the warrior in you,
will now taste every wound
on her own skin.

You loved so fiercely…
I hardly dare to dream of such a love.
I watch the night-sea ripples
slip into darkness, fusing with the sky.
You surely walked this world — and maybe walk it still…
In that world where you are —
do you remember me, or have you let me go?
Or, knowing I would dare to love once more,
did the Creator send you there
to be my quiet punishment…?

My stubbornness, my sharpness and revolt —
so strange beside the worship you’re used to,
the tribute to a king.
My bluntness and my guileless open heart —
you weighed them as offense,
took every joke of mine
dead seriously,
refusing to believe
we only played with words because we loved.

And more… I broke a promise:
to leave a secret sign you’d recognize,
to mark: “these lines are written just for you”.
But what was I to do,
once I could see
how any eager fan of yours
would crack this little riddle in a breath?
So I said no —
and, loving you again,
I hurt you once again,
and found myself
with no more keys
to peace between us.

And now I wander,
lost among your bitter phrases,
like in a wildwood
where nothing’s ever random.
There, from branch to branch,
a certain smile flies after me —
that famous grin
without the cat.

And down the path to meet me
comes small and wise my sister —
the one they call
Miracle-making Alice.
With gentle, magic warmth
she takes my hand in hers,
then whispers me a short,
clear, shining counsel,
beckons the catless smile
with one curved finger —
and, as she always does,
slips back into the thicket
the very moment
she is no more needed,
leaving me alone
with truth
that asks for nothing.

In sticky, thickened silence
my thoughts dissolve
in healing forest-music,
and from the deep down well
where Alice hides,
her whisper rises back
like tender ether:

Save your love
for one who’s worthy of your heart,
for one whose lips will never say: “Don’t love me.”
For one who is, at least inside, a brave, true warrior,
who’ll cradle your life
as if it were his own.

Then he will be
the one who truly
deserves your feelings.

In real life — not in movies —
when we see something absurd, we laugh.
So too the man who chooses to be comfortable —
who blasts through someone’s world
and strolls away —
does not look back to see
how long, how very long
he’s made another soul unhappy.

And you —
in others’ eyes, so gentle and sincere,
all tender,
afraid to hurt or wound…
But why is that
for them — for others — and not for me?
As if I were too blind
to notice when you’re cruel.

Now you’re so generous and soft,
awkward in a strangely touching way,
and yet somewhere
inside this cuddly teddy bear
a growling bear
is hiding.

Why am I the only one
who knows this side of you?
Perhaps I should feel flattered
by such trust —
that what you never show
to friends or kin
lies open only
in my hands…
But who decreed
that I must need this gift?

Oh, my king…
your ego cannot be defeated —
and in it, like a bitter joke of fate,
lives all your strength.

You’re hurt because I dared to see in you
a willful, power-driven child.
And still I thought you wise enough
to understand
there’s no good reason,
and no point at all
for us to cross that line:
beyond it stand
the warning flags,
and we must not step past them.

So for the faithful, patient love
I’m hiding now so bravely,
for being proud enough
to bear the weight of it
and yet not be ashamed,
one day, I know,
they’ll call me — quietly —
your loyal, patient
Hachiko.

 * * *



               


Ðåöåíçèè