Сomputer of Love
Константин Кедров
Konstantin Kedrov
Konstantin Kedrov (b. 1942) is the Russian avant-garde poet, philologist, literary critic. He hold a PhD in Philosophy. Prof. Kedrov is member of the Writers Union of Russia, currently President of Russian Poetry Society, a corporate member of FIPA, UNESKO, a member of the International PEN, He is the author of term Metacode (united code of world culture), the creator of the new poetry school named Methametaphora and a founder of the poetry group called DOOS (The Voluntary Society for the Protection of Dragonflies). He is also the founder and editor-in-chief of "Journal POetov" (magazine of poets). Was awarded the GRAMMY.ru Prize (2003, 2005) as a poet of the year.
COMPUTER OF LOVE
Heaven is the height of a look
A look is the depth of heaven
Pain is the touch of God
God is the touch of pain
Dream is the width of a soul
Soul is the depth of a dream
Light is the voice of silence
Silence is the voice of light
Darkness is the cry of shining
Shining is the silence of darkness
Rainbow is the gladness of light
An idea is the dumbness of the soul
Soul is an idea undraped
Light is the depth of knowledge
Knowledge is the height of light
A steed is an animal of space
A cat is an animal of time
Time is space curled into a ball
Space is jump of a steed
Sun is the body of moon
A body is the moon of love
A ship is wave of metal
Water is the ship of wave
Sorrow is the emptiness of space
Gladness is the completeness of time
Time is the sorrow of space
Space is the completeness of time
A man is the heaven turned inside out
A woman is the man turned inside out
A man is the woman turned inside out
A heaven is the man turned inside out
A touch is the space of a man
Love is the touch of infinity
The eternal life is the moment of love
A sail-ship is the computer of memory
Memory is the sail-ship of computer
Poetry is the time of a thief
A poet is the thief of time
Sea is the space of moon
Moon is the time of sun
Time is the moon of space
Stars are the voices of a night
Voices are the stars of a day
A ship is the quay of the whole ocean
Ocean is the quay of the ship
A skin is the drawing of constellation
Constellation is the drawing of the skin
Christ is the sun of Buddha
Buddha is the moon of Christ
The time of sun can be measured by the moon of space
Space of moon is the time of sun
The horizon is the width of a look
A look is the width of the horizon
Height is the border of vision
A palm is a boat for a bride
A bride is a boat in a palm
A camel is a ship of desert
Desert is a camel's ship
Beauty is the hate for death
The hate for death is a beauty
The constellation Orion is a sword of love
Love is the sword of the constellation Orion
The Little Dipper is the space of the Big Dipper
The Big Dipper is the time of Little Dipper
A look is the width of heaven
Heaven is the height of a look
A thought is the depth of a night
Night is the width a thought
The Galaxy is the way to the moon
Moon is the developed Galaxy
Every star is the pleasures of the flesh
Erotics is all stars
Space between stars is the time without love
People are the bridges between stars
Bridges are stars between people
Passion is flying
Flying is the continuation of passion
Voice is a jump of one to another
A friend is the understanding of cry
The distance between people is full of stars
The distance of stars is full of people.
(Translated by Marina Rozanova)
The Cross
All around, the wilting roses
Faint in the sobbing summer.
Sinking, the swollen cross
Of the dragon-fly
Where Christ
Is being down by rays of light.
The iridescent cross is lifted from the dragon-flies,
Nailed down under God’s gaze.
Fair, iridescent Christ
Lies himself out
On the river and mountain.
The cross from the river – mountain,
The cross from the river – the heavens,
Sun-moon twinkling cross,
The cross of the night and day,
Trough you and me –
Joined at the hips.
(Translated by Marina Rozanova)
The butterfly
The earth is flying
by the orbit
not like a butterfly
who follows it's own way
(Translated by Marina Rozanova)
The Endless Poem
Every day I hear inside myself your voice
The words sound very strange
And when I close my eyes
I see those shouts which are given birth with silence
And the bright colors which was born by dark
I am finding myself left by all
Except concepts and word which are so deep
That the word we can see disappears
But I can speak and when I understand it
The word is born again
I string sounds on a naked nerve
And feel the great dissonance
And the rapture of an eminence above the world
The Poetry is top of being
Carriages are connected by iron hand shake
Trees – stations – silence
And you in silence of old night
And everything that connects me with you
And millions people which
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