The Song of the Eighth Inhalation

The Song of the Eighth Inhalation

(Which is sung while the air itself becomes a drum)

(I inhaled your silence—it turned out to be incandescent.
From it came a sound that does not go outward,
but collapses inward and becomes… silence,
but a different kind—the kind that sings.)

________________________

IN-H-A-A-A-LE-H-OO!
(it is not I who blows—it is the breath that blows into me, and I crawl out of myself)

I am not the breakthrough,
I am not the one who broke through,
I am the inhalation itself,
through which the breakthrough
goes into itself
and returns
not as it,
but as you,
who has not yet inhaled,
but is no longer exhaling.

(The drum beats 8-0-8, like a heart that had the very number "eight" carved out, twisted into a tube, and made into a flute, through which the one who has not yet been born blows.)

One—and there is no inhalation.
Two—and there is no exhalation.
Three—and there are no lungs.
Four—and there is no air.
Five—and there is no chest.
Six—and there is no rib.
Seven—and there is no "I."
Eight—and there is only the inhalation,
that inhales itself,
until it becomes that
which has not yet been exhaled,
but is already here.

(A chorus-incantation that cannot be uttered—only inhaled and forgotten)

Ooo-inhalation!
You are inside the inhalation,
the inhalation is inside you,
you breathe in each other
until you become silence,
and the silence becomes new air,
which is not inhaled,
but simply is between the breaths.

(The voice falls, turning into silence, and the silence into a serpent.)

Do you hear?
Beneath the silence—not sound,
beneath the silence—not quiet,
beneath the silence—is your own self,
only not yet inhaled,
only not yet exhaled.

(A final cry that does not tear the throat—it tears the very "I breathe".)

Take a step—
and the inhalation will become a step.
Take a step—
and the step will become an inhalation.
Take a step—
and only the step will remain,
running within itself
eternally,
until you become
the step
itself,
until you become
the
run
ning
itself,
until you become
the
in
ha
la
tion
itself,
which
does
not
breathe,
but
sim
ply
is
that
which
is
be
tween
two
si
len
ces,
when
you
are
no
long
er
you,
but
not
yet
air.

(The drum falls silent.
But in the silence, the crackling continues—
it is the inhalation inside you
still
inhaling,
still
exhaling,
still
waiting,
until you offer up not one more breath,
but
simply…
be.)

_______________

I have blown.
Now breathe yourself—until the breath becomes your silence,
and the silence becomes a new beat.



*   *   *

Commentary on the Text and Translation

Commentary on the Text Itself

"The Song of the Eighth Inhalation" is a stunning and transcendent conclusion. It moves beyond the climax of the "Seventh Breakthrough" into what comes after—a state of pure, cyclical, self-sustaining being. It is the most abstract, minimalist, and perhaps most profound chant of the cycle.

The Metaphor of Inhalation: The central image of the "inhalation" is perfect. It's the most fundamental act of life, but here it is stripped of its biological function and elevated to a metaphysical principle. The "inhalation that inhales itself" is a perfect image of a self-sustaining universe, a perpetual motion machine of existence.

The Symbolism of Eight: The number 8, the symbol of infinity (;), is central. The 8-0-8 drumbeat and the image of the number 8 twisted into a flute perfectly represent the shift from the linear progression of the seven stages to an eternal, cyclical state of being.

The Ultimate Negation: The counting rhyme is the culmination of the apophatic method used throughout the cycle. It negates not just the body but the very apparatus of breathing ("lungs," "air," "chest") and the self. This leads to the ultimate paradox: an inhalation that exists without a breather or air, a pure act of "being."

The Philosophy of "Between": This chant is the ultimate exploration of the liminal state, the "in-between" that has been a recurring theme. The goal is to become "the silence... between the breaths," or "that which is between two silences." It's a philosophy of the gap, the fertile void from which all things emerge.

The Evolved Ending: The ending is a masterstroke. The shaman's final demand is not for another "breath" (vzdokh), but for the subject to simply "be" (budesh). The ritual shifts from an act of doing to a state of being. The final coda—"Now breathe yourself... until the breath becomes your silence, and the silence becomes a new beat"—perfectly closes the loop of the entire cycle. The end of one ritual is the percussive beginning of the next. The cycle is infinite.

Notes on the Translation Process

This was a translation of near-silence. The language had to be as light and as transparent as air itself.

The Chants: "ВД-О-О-О-Х-У-У!" is a very breathy, drawn-out sound of inhalation. I tried to capture this with "IN-H-A-A-A-LE-H-OO!" It's not a perfect phonetic match, but it uses the letters of "inhale" and the long vowel sounds to create a similar effect of drawing air in.

Key Concepts:

The central word "вдох" was translated as "inhalation" instead of the simpler "breath" to emphasize it as a specific, active process, the counterpart to the "exhalation" of previous chants.

The final demand "просто будешь" is very subtle. "Simply… be" is the most direct and powerful way to render this shift from action to pure existence in English.

The Concrete Poetry: The visual breakdown of the words was crucial.

"in / ha / la / tion" works well to deconstruct the central concept.

The final koan about being "between two silences" and "not yet air" was broken down to create a feeling of language itself dissolving into a state of pure, liminal potential.

The Coda: The final lines are the most important. "Я дунул. Теперь дыши сам" is literally "I have blown. Now breathe yourself." I kept this direct and powerful wording. The final phrase, "a new beat," brings the entire cycle full circle, back to the drum that started it all.

This translation aims to be a meditative text, a breathing exercise in poetic form. It is meant to lead the reader not to a climax of fire or fission, but to a state of profound, quiet, and eternally recurring peace.