Holy trees

Эпистеме, (или знанию о познании?)
- В чём дилемма?
- Между тем и этим?
( денотанта и денотата),
лепим,
горбатого к стене, хотел сказать и тебе,
думал или делал вид?
или его эписистемы твид?
восприятию при отсутствии стимула, или кон-
цепции, (хроноцептивные глюки как основа
при осуществлении бессмертного времяпро-
вождения, (холей?) или нет, елей? на твою рану,
(как введение в заблуждение, (п....), (яны), скита-
нию по пространству и времени, а он говорил,
что hyli ты? holy...

The thought: "So that you may know ..." was revealed to me a little from the preface, and we considered it as:
That is, in other words, Master, we realized the possibility, but we did not know where it came from.

Between the great sheikh and the great Ferdowsi,
The basis of their work is a star Simurghi.

The sign, his sages from the Tajiks,
As well as each of the nations of the world.

The owner of the symbol, compared to the birds:
"Phoenix in Europe, Illness of Americans"

Garuda...

I am walking in the forest of my own life
I feel at once and suddenly inside,
I love so much this nice and magic day
I am breathing this so wonderful and mental way

And in the sunny place of forest’s edge
Shall open wind the list of fairy page
I am satisfied with piece of tasty cake,
That just your earthly hands can only make

The trees are rustling nice about something,
I am crazy quiet about silence and unusual exciting
The lock is free... The door just opens...so slowly
In one...

Look at the window, and tell me you see,
Snow going down, white covering trees;
Heaven like mirror, mirror of ground,
World is amazing, looking around.

I stand alone in the darkness.
The winter of my life came so fast.
Memories go back to my childhood
To days I still recall.

Oh, how happy I was then.
There was no sorrow, there was no pain.
Walking through the greenfields
Sunshine in my eyes.

I'm still there, everywhere,
I'm the dust in the wind,
I'm the star in the northern sky.
I never stayed, anywhere,
I'm the wind in the trees.
Would you wait for me forever?

Ты знаешь, как под звездами
возбуждается серебром тепло?
Ты знаешь, что мы живем?
Ты не оставил ключи от Царства?
Ты являлся этому миру
и жив ли ты?

Давай возродим богов и старые
мифы,
Воскресим ритуалы пустынных древних лесных пространств,
(разве ты не забыл назиданья
старинной военной лиры?)

Мы нуждаемся в великих оргиях золотой века.

Наши отцы щебечут на куполах лесных изваяний.
Наша мать зарыта в морские побеги.

Ты знаешь, что железные адмиралы
ведут нас, как скот, на...

Winter has come
And the snow’s covered the land.
All the jobs have been done
And the year’s coming to end.

Fir-tree lights are burnt
And the people are wishing for good.
All the lessons are learned,
All the values are understood.

Let the old year go away,
Let the New Year come to my land
Let the old friend never betray,
Let the new friend give me a hand.
Let the people live always in peace
Let prosperity come to their homes,
Let their kindness ever increase,
Let them see...

Mohito-Latte with a Baileys inside,
Twilight around the sky,
Baden-Baden does easily dancing aside,
As fire on candles, as shy.

So merry, so easy, so fastly and funny
Is shining the careless snow,
My soul is free, it's abundant and clear -
The old world going too low

It's heard, as the trees are whispering on the bridges,
Making a bless in a river,
It's heard, as a rain will go by and somewhere,
With climate of roses, believe it

It's heard, as a wind is still singing it's songs...

I sit through the long night
In the high tower,
And listen to the autumn rain
Outside my window.

There is no sound of human life,
Save now and then
A belated traveler hastening by.
Through the dark heaven,
A wild goose wings his lonely flight.
In the chill gloom
A cricket calls
The water drips mournfully
From the t'ung trees;
And the blossoms
Flutter sadly
To the rain-soaked earth.

Sadness broods
Over the world.
I fear to walk in my garden,
Lest I see
A...

Для редактора,
озабоченного передовицей,
он никто, какой-то Джон Мильтон,
затерявшийся на литературной обочине.

Актриса глицериновую слезу
из-за него не проливала ни разу.

О нем хранит молчание
радио и телевещание.

Нет ни досье, ни файлов секретных.
Нет псевдонимов народу известных.

Никому не интересно
узнать его настоящее имя.

Жив ли он, мертв ли он,
не проверяет никто.

Возможно в чулане
детективы найдут его труп
с разбитым лицом,
с открытыми глазами...