The Song of the Second Fire

(A Shamanic Circle Above the Abyss)

(The drum awakens with a single beat, like a heart torn from the chest and hung from the sky)

Ooo-ooo-ooo…
(The echo carries the voice upward, where there is no air)
I am No,
I am All,
I am the hole in the clock
through which the night seeps.

(The drum beats 11 times—slowly, like drops of molten lead)

Strip yourself to ash,
to become your own clothing.
Burn your name,
to hear the sound of its burning.

(A chorus-incantation, where each syllable is a spear thrust into the earth)

Six-and-fifty—
my word,
my number,
my blood.
Divide,
add,
multiply,
and understand:
you are the result,
you are the remainder,
you are your own equation.

(The voice becomes a whisper, as if from beneath the roots of a mandrake)

The fallen priest kisses the palm of the Queen of the Void,
and her sweat is incense,
and her breath is a song,
that is not sung,
but lived.

(The drum suddenly stops—silence)

..."No"—
came out of the light,
"Two"—
breathed life into it.

(A beat again, but this time inside the listener's chest)

I am divided for the sake of love,
only to be united again.
The world is the pain of splitting,
and all ecstasy lies in dissolution.

(A cry that does not tear the throat, but tears space apart)

Do not pity the fools!
They are embers
that do not know
the sun is inside them.

(A pause. The sound of pine resin crackling in the fire can be heard)

Follow the prophet,
but not his shadow.
Seek only me,
and I will redeem you
not with gold,
not with a word,
but with your own breath.

(The final chorus—no longer singing, but a sob transformed into music)

Write,
without erasing.
Learn,
without knowing.
Love,
without holding on.

(The final drumbeat—and it becomes the listener's own pulse)

Now you are—
a book
that cannot be closed.
Now you are—
a law
that cannot be broken.
Now you are—
a fire
that does not go out,
because
it
is
you.

(Silence.
But within it—
a newborn star,
and it is already singing)


*   *   *


Commentary on the Text and Translation

Commentary on the Text Itself

"The Song of the Second Fire" is a radical departure from the previous shamanic chants. It leaves the natural, elemental world behind and enters a realm of high ritual magic, Gnosticism, and abstract cosmology. It's a hermetic text, a fragment of a secret liturgy.

1. Hermetic Language. The poem is deliberately obscure, using language that points to a hidden system of knowledge. "The Second Fire," "Six-and-fifty," the "Queen of the Void"—these are not folk archetypes but terms from a complex esoteric tradition. This creates an powerful sense of initiation, of being given a glimpse into a secret rite.

2. Ritual as Structure. The text is structured as a performance score. The stage directions—(The drum awakens...), (The voice becomes a whisper...), (Silence)—are as important as the words themselves. They control the rhythm, tension, and dynamics of the ritual, making the reader a participant rather than a passive observer.

3. Gnostic and Alchemical Themes. The poem is saturated with concepts from Western esotericism:
   The Inner Spark. "They are embers that do not know the sun is inside them" is a classic Gnostic idea of the divine spark trapped in matter.
   Solve et Coagula (Dissolve and Coagulate). "I am divided for the sake of love, only to be united again" and "The world is the pain of splitting, and all ecstasy lies in dissolution" are perfect expressions of the alchemical process of breaking down and re-forming at a higher level.
   Self-Deification. The final transformation of the subject into "a book," "a law," and "a fire" is the ultimate goal of many magical traditions—not to return to nature, but to become a conscious, immortal principle, a living embodiment of the cosmos.

4. Ecstatic and Violent Imagery. The language is ecstatic and almost violent. "A heart torn from the chest," "a cry that... tears space apart," "the pain of splitting." This is not the gentle healing of the earlier chants, but a radical, explosive transformation through fire and sacrifice.

Notes on the Translation Process

Translating this piece required a shift in style from the earthy, primal tone of the previous chants to something more abstract, arcane, and intensely dramatic.

1. Capturing the Voice. The voice here is not a shaman, but a Hierophant, a high priest or priestess of a mystery cult. It is commanding, enigmatic, and ecstatic. The translation uses stark, powerful, and often paradoxical phrasing to convey this authority.

2. The Ritual Score. I preserved the stage directions in italics, treating them as integral to the poem. They are crucial for establishing the rhythm and atmosphere. The parenthetical format helps distinguish them from the spoken/sung parts of the chant.

3. Untranslatable Numbers. The phrase "Шесть-и-пятьдесят" is literally "Six-and-fifty." I kept it as "Six-and-fifty" rather than "fifty-six" because the unusual phrasing in the original suggests it's a mystical formula, not just a number. It sounds more arcane and deliberate. The 11 drumbeats were also kept, as 11 is a significant number in many esoteric systems.

4. Key Phrases. The translation focused on the power of the core aphorisms.
"Мир — это боль расщепления, и весь экстаз — в растворении" became "The world is the pain of splitting, and all ecstasy lies in dissolution."

The final triplet—"Write, without erasing. Learn, without knowing. Love, without holding on"—was translated directly to maintain its stark, imperative power.

The final, climactic declaration—"он — ты" ("it is you")—was spaced out vertically ("it / is / you") to create a dramatic pause and emphasize the moment of apotheosis, mirroring the final drumbeat becoming the listener's pulse.

This translation aims to be a script for an English-speaking performer to enact this ritual, a text that is less to be read and more to be experienced as a surge of transformative, fiery energy.