Принц Папа Жан



Like an icon I saw you face in the dark
And wished to pray
To which God, though?!
As there ar no gods! I still remain.
I stretch out my hands,
to give you hope.
Desired dream!
Burnt on fire…
I wish only to remain with you.
You, weeping universe! And burning love…
With you alone.
After the world’s end.
Next to you…, Lora, – my beauty!


I discovered you perfect in my visions.
I discovered you perfect in my space.
And perfect were you before that orgasm of their creation,
before and after the first Fall…
A blossoming rose, again sincere,
A shell avidly protecting the soul…
a tear on grains of beach sand,
endless shadows in life,
tender reflections, a platinum morning,
ladders summoning to the starry vault,
a second, smashed in seconds,
long breaths in the night’s thorny mantle.
More love!
More thought!
More beats of a winsome heart!
More wind!
More raining hearts!
And all on the way,
on the rose leaves!
Open thighs!
Fertile love!
Creative love!
Infinite and pure!
Like the world!


Oh, dear muse of mine, my nightmare,
drinking companion and comrade,
flowers and oil paintings
crystal rivulet in early morning.
I am in purple because of the pain of dawn,
in distress and unhappiness I live,
broken down on the road, and having broken other roads,
on the way to you, my desire…
Oh, dear muse of mine, my nightmare,
my longing for your breast
and your beautiful head
and the fresh, feminine flesh.
I long for your tender voice
and my power over your passion…
I long for those wings of yours
and your hands,
and your longing soul
and your name is that of desired woman.
Your breast, frankly weary,
from truths of passion injured,
and again with a fascinating fragrance
your lips melt in kisses…
In your eyes I saw beauty and romance
and a lunar voice in the night,
you are once again bathed in rays of sun,
but I love you – an enchantress woman….


Even eternity is blind from this love
God has stopped time
He doesn’t want to wait
because with it he will age…

From this love even thrills freeze
even the heart loses its bearings
and the colour of its hair is that of harvest
it has illumined the universe…

From this love the Earth stops
even the compasses are silent,
and I find it in your lips
and it is the road to my heart.


O, these 17 years of silence
is the eternity,
sprinkled with desire…

And the end of the world arrives
unless I am warmed up by you.
O, my dearest!
Friend, Goddess,
woman, blessed and innocent…

Our life was a Ferris wheel.
Art, love, philosophy, flesh…
In your hands you held my heart
and the two of us span the Milky Way…

Circular time, circular thoughts,
dew, air, ice, triumph, waterfall…
So cruel and so pure,
we were lovers, burning in ecstasy…

Circular hues, icy loneliness,
days of poetry, of expectation and appeal.
Days of rapture, despair, tenderness,
days of our mad love.

Days born of Chaos,
getting itself into shape,
a brass farthing
becoming a golden goblet…

Days without sunsets,
blind pictures
in the lunar orgasm
of the original sin.

Unleashed comets,
nightmare and wonderful reverie…
You, unimagined daydream of ours.
Nights without end,
brief and stormy nights,
stellar rapture
of my soul.

Hurried time,
stopped time,
cuddled quietly
in your hair…

Splendid sunrise,
ecstasy before parting,
the root weeps,
the heart screams.

Then – again noon.
The day is repeated.
Who will feed
the soul with love?

Quiet small candles
quiver before the altar
with a prayer for love
to the cruel God.

In the altar of sunset
a verdict lurks.
The night, not loved enough,
will again fall asleep.

Hurry up, sun!
I am condemned
to rend the string of beads
of stellar daydreams.


Be a star and starry roads,
be also a radiant, long-awaited century,
be a sweeping revolution,
be a solace to the anxious man…

Be the seasons in which
weary days pass away,
emptiness reigns after your departure,
I pray to you: come back!

Be a path to goodness,
be a naked breast,
be the tree of life
and come back, if you can.

Be also the gate to a temple,
be intoxicating grape,
be the veil of a bride,
and come back, if you can.
Be the flesh of beauty,
be a fragrant linden tree
be the thrill between the thighs
and come back if you can.

Be the doomed tenderness,
be the dearest features,
become eternity, if you can,
and embody me in yourself.

Be one of life’s jokers,
be a splendid destiny,
be a most sensitive note,
play the tenderest melody with your lip,
if you can,
if you can,
you can, you can…
Come back to me!

Be everything I touch
with skin, lips, tears and soul,
everything from which I seek love,
…o, my love,
my love, please…
What I can and cannot paint,
what I have and don’t have,
what can be wasted
what is fit to be experienced,
what cannot surfeit you,
what makes us happy,
for which I revere each instant,
what blossoms,
weeps –
what exists!

Be the stalk of
impossible fruit,
secrets of light,
the peal of bells,
a time for loving and daydreaming,
a time for dying,
for regeneration
and a new soul…

Be everything I cannot
yet infinitely desire…

Come back, if you can…

If not, I’ll find you even in hell,
don’t expect mercy from my love,
same as you had no mercy
for me…

I’ll even find you in paradise
because a sinful soul
can discover hell
in paradise
in the name of love…

I’ll even find you in the bottomless cosmos
or in the charred forest,
I’ll be your shadow,
the doomed eternity amidst the cold marble…

I’ll find you in loneliness
and even in your fantasies,
I’ll step on the moon, if need be,
as soon as I learn you are there…

I’ll find you also in the roots of the birch-tree
in the blackest, bottomless night,
I’ll fight Satan, if I have to,
I’ll lose if thus I can acquire strength!

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