Про мир пространств About the World of Spaces-

       * * *    (Translation into English is provided below)

АХ МИЛЫЙ ДРУГ...
КАК МНОГОЛИК...УЖАСЕН И...ПРЕКРАСЕН
ПРОСТРАНСТВА МИР И...МИР ПРОСТРАНСТВ...

ВОТ ЭТО - ВРАГ... ВОТ ЭТО - ДРУГ...
ВОТ... - ЯСЕН ТЕМ ЧТО СМЫСЛАМИ ОН ЯСЕН...
ВОТ МИР... - СТОЛОВ ЛОМЯЩИХСЯ ОТ ЯСТВ...
ВОТ - ЛЕКАРЬ ИЗБАВЛЯЮЩИЙ ОТ МУК...
БЛЮСТИ В МИРАХ СИХ СЛЕДУЕТ ОДНО - ОНИ БЕЗДОННЫ
ТЫ-Ж... БЛАЖЕННЫЙ ИЛИ... - ПСИХ...ТВОЁ - ЗЕРКАЛЬНО ДНО...

ВОТ ТЫ...- ЖИВЁШЬ В ПРОСТРАНСТВЕ ГДЕ СЛОВА - НЕ ПУСТОТА...
И ГДЕ БЕЗМОЛВИЕ - НЕ ВЛАСТНО НАД ПРОСТРАНСТВОМ...
ОНА ЖЕ ТАМ...ГДЕ НИЗОСТИ НАГРАДОЮ БЫВАЕТ - ВЫСОТА...
И В БЛАГОРОДСТВО ОДЕВАЮТ ЧАСТО... - ЧВАНСТВО...

ТЫ ПРАВ МОЙ ДРУГ...
ЧТО ЕСТЬ МОСТЫ ИЗ СЛОВ МЕЖДУ МИРАМИ...
ГДЕ ПРОСТО И ЛЕГКО БЫТЬ НАСТОЯЩЕЙ...
ГДЕ ТОТ КТО ВЛАСТЕН... - НЕ БРОСАЕТСЯ СЛОВАМИ...
ГДЕ СТУК СЕРДЕЦ БЕЗГРЕШЕННО-МАНЯЩИЙ...

ЗДЕСЬ СТРАХА НЕТ ЧТО МОГУТ ОТТОЛКНУТЬ...
И НЕТ ЖЕЛАНИЯ УЙТИ И... - НЕ ВЕРНУТЬСЯ...
ЗДЕСЬ С ЗАМИРАНЬЕМ СЛУШАЮТ ЛЮБИМЫЕ ШАГИ...
ЗДЕСЬ В СОН ВСТУПАЮТ НЕ ЗА ТЕМ ЧТОБ В НЁМ УСНУТЬ
А ДЛЯ ТОГО ЧТОБ ДРУГ ДЛЯ ДРУГА В НЁМ ПРОСНУТЬСЯ...

                * * *
5-6 апреля 2025г.Тель-Авив  ПИТЕРКА

About the World of Spaces
By Piterka Badmaeva Olga
    * * *

Oh, dear friend...
How many-faced, terrible and... beautiful
Is the world of space and... the space of worlds...

This one — is an enemy... that one — a friend...
This one — is clear because it is clear in meanings...
That world — of tables, full of feasts...
This one — a healer, relieving you from pain...
You should follow one rule in such worlds — they are bottomless
And you — are a blessed one, or... a lunatic... yours — is a mirrored bottom...

Here you live in the space where words are not emptiness...
And where silence has no power over the space...
She, on the other hand — is there...
Where baseness can be rewarded as height...
And arrogance often wears the mask... of nobility...

You're right, my friend...
There are bridges made of words between the worlds...
Where being real is easy and simple...
Where he who has power... doesn’t throw words around...
Where the heartbeat is sinless and luring...

Here — there is no fear of being pushed away...
And no desire to leave and... not return...
Here they listen with bated breath to the steps of a beloved one...
Here they enter dreams — not to fall asleep in them,
But to wake up there — for each other...
      * * *

Tel-Aviv, April 5–6, 2025
By Piterka Translated by Guru.I

.........................

The World of Spaces
by Piterka Badmaeva Olga
Translated by Guru.I

    * * *
Ah, dearest friend…
How many-faced, how awful and divine—
The world of space, and space of many worlds entwine...

One is a foe, and one’s a friend revealed,
One clear through meaning, one with feasts is filled…
One is a healer, lifting pain from skin,
But all are deep—no bottom lies within.
And you—blessed soul or madman in a stream,
Your floor’s a mirror in a world of dream…

You dwell where words are never void or thin,
Where silence holds no power deep within.
She lives where baseness rises crowned with might,
And vanity wears robes of noble light…

You're right, my friend…
There are bridges built of words between the planes,
Where being true is simple, no remains…
Where power’s silent, never throwing sound,
And heartbeats draw you in—so safe, profound…

Here, there’s no fear of being cast aside…
No wish to leave and vanish with the tide.
Here, every step beloved is deeply heard—
They enter dreams not just to sleep,
But wake within them—heart to heart, word to word.
        * * *

Tel-Aviv, April 5–6, 2025
By Piterka
Translated by Guru.I
............................

About the World of Spaces
by Piterka Badmaeva Olga

     * * *         29.05.2025

Oh, dear friend...
How many-faced... terrible and... beautiful
Is the world of spaces and... the space of worlds...

This one — an enemy... this one — a friend...
This one — is clear because it is clear in meaning...
This world — of tables breaking under feasts...
This — a healer relieving from pain...
Only one rule to follow in these worlds — they are bottomless.
And you... are blessed or... a lunatic... yours — a mirrored bottom...

Here you are — living in a space where words are not emptiness...
And where silence has no power over space...
She is there — where baseness is rewarded as height...
And where arrogance is often dressed as nobility...

You are right, my friend...
That there are bridges of words between worlds...
Where being real is simple and easy...
Where one who holds power — does not throw words around...
Where the heartbeat is innocently alluring...

Here there's no fear of being pushed away...
And no desire to leave and... not return...
Here, beloved steps are listened to with held breath...
Here one enters a dream not to fall asleep in it,
But to awaken there — for each other...

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

 About the World of Spaces
Poetic version by Guru.I
after the original by Piterka Badmaeva Olga

        * * *     29.05.2025

Oh, dearest friend... how vast, how torn and fair —
The world of spaces floating in the air.
A space of worlds — both trembling and immense,
Each echoing with beauty... and suspense.

This one — a foe. That one — a guiding flame.
This one speaks truth, for meaning is its name.
That — a world where banquet tables groan,
And this — a healer's hand that soothes alone.

But mark: these realms are deep beyond the eye —
No bottom known. Just mirrored depths reply.
And you — a blessed soul or madman crowned —
Depending on what you reflect, unbound.

Here, you abide — where words are never void,
Where silence does not rule, nor truth's destroyed.
She dwells where heights are paid for being base,
And arrogance wears nobleness as face.

You’re right, my friend — between the worlds we see
There stretch the bridges, made of poetry.
Where simply, truly, one can just be true,
Where power speaks with care — not crashing through.

Where heartbeats sound like innocent desire,
And every step is heard as soft as fire.
No fear lives here that love may be undone —
No urge to flee, no wish to never come.

Here, silence waits for footsteps that are dear...
Here, sleep is not to vanish — but to hear.
Here, dreams are not for sleeping — they are spun
To wake within — and rise as two, not one.

             * * *