in search of love

(the title is a quote, you know where it's from)

And the world of hungry spirits is full of love-hungry brides of the son of god.
Passion is a ticket to that very place.
Cheers, Sergei. These pious teetotalers won't understand.
But they want love, give them a massage?
Rejoice, your ticket there was fake.

Your passion was real? Did you prove its authenticity?
Sergey, darling, just don't ever lie to me.
Amazing, hungry spirits looking for love.
But there's no love in them.
Yes, your drink is absolutely right,
That's why they're hungry.

It's so obvious,
there's no love in those who are hungry for love.
I'm going to quote to you 16 stratagems
From the section
about acting from a weak position of lack.
Why is this unnecessary?
There is no purpose in wanting what is lacking.
And satiation does not satisfy hunger.
That in itself is an insidious trap.

Cheers. Cheers!
You set these and it's inhumane.
They should want to.
Want, want, and don't stop.
Otherwise life stops.
The subduing of carnal desires is lust itself?
You'd make a great marketer.
Of course, who else is a poet but a marketer?

They're lucky their passions aren't so strong,
And they're not too hungry for hungry spirits.
Yeah, they're moderately well-fed,
cheers.
16 stratagems for acting from an equal position of strength,
I take it you don't want to hear it either?
I'll do as you say



Intuitively? You?
From the heart, huh? And what is that?
Sincere insincerity in fullness?
I like that kind of metamorphosis of turning things upside down.
Intuitively?
I can't tell if you're trying to fool me or yourself right now.
Both are a pretty bad idea.
You almost got yourself?
Let me remind you, my dear, that your ticket of passion
to the world of love's hungry spirits was fake.
And you were caught in the act.
Cheers!
Next time we'll drink absinthe.
I need a word.
No, your poetry is wheat vodka.
And it gives you a hangover.
Absence will be something new.

Scared? No, I'm not an alcoholic dealer.
I'm a poetry dealer.
But I really don't have anything for sale right now.
I have stratagems made in china.
For all occasions.
And healing ointment for all wounds.
Where do you hurt?
It's a great bar.

Why are you in your hospital pajamas, by the way?
You could take the rope off your neck.
Cheers.
I'm here to tell you for the umpteenth time that you're a poser.
Look over there in the corner there's Hesse and over there's future Rimbaud.
A hostel in a livery? That's Pushkin.
But the girls at the counter look in love?
That's it.
Take a closer look, they're not girls at all.

I think that's the name of the bar.
“Three Times in One Glass.”
But these old ladies are definitely in love with you.
They really like the rope around your neck.
They're hoping maybe it's a dog leash?
What do you think?
We've been drinking too much again.
Of course we did.
Check?
No, we're on the house.
I own it.



I never dream, it's true.
But I'm the master of yours.
Are you hungry? For what and how hungry?
No, we don't serve gourmet meals anymore.
No one ever orders them.
Cheers!
To love?
What, you think you're a gourmet by ordering lentil chowder?
You got kicked off the train for that fake ticket.
Well, we're not exactly visitors here.

Did all the passengers have fake tickets like that?
Then be happy. This train has no return route.
I'm sorry, I have to go. I don't have time for this.
You're welcome,
the “love” in wine sauce for table three.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)