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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • WHO CAN BE SAFE ME?

     

    Self-sacrificing, fertile Demeter-eyes cry in infantile, frightened fear. Shivering, still running, the tearful holy pain would flee from it, while in the depths of a crushed conscience my half-shy, boyish self follows me, kindly urging me: may I remain a little naive child again!

    He avoids me or grimaces, but in a whimsical, funny way - he leaps in front of me like a lively, little five-year-old, a tiny, tiny, tiny child, and makes a confession in defence of innocence: "You've grown up so completely!" he mutters sincerely. Inside, behind my secret soul-parties, a whimsical romance and a constant desire to be complimentary and mortality are now combined with a playfulness that is both understanding and accepting.

    In the field of my boyhood orphanhood a fist-sized hole gapes, and at the tips of my fingers the tingle of immortal confessions passes through and through, my budding moments, like flames of peat quivering on a bait-flint. Will the tangible Reality deceive me, and not only the magic of the visible eyes?!

    Would every eternal moment be a closed, broken whirlpool?! - It spins me like a merry-go-round, and will not let me go, except when I am nauseous: I must cross the blind depths of indifference to live every moment with content, while I ponder it!

    To break free from the past, from continuous Hangman Idols, to survive on fibres? The winds of considered choices ringing in my ears warningly! Who can say, Who shall take care of me? Who can protect me? I must cling to my sweetheart's embracing confidence, As to the rooted All. My dearest heritage should be guarded by the lesson of my universal vigilance. Ready to remain a man at all costs in the face of violent storms!

    Foul, false winds shall not reach me! Only he who truly loves me shall see me as a true, happy child!

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