Outside the Masurian cottage never-ending carnival

The errant couples dancing there a tango in the barn

Burnt ladders of archangels so deep in mortal soul

Planets turned into a dust – the Munich Sun had shone

While the autumn leaves are burning with their emblems on gallows

Solidified human shadows decorate the walls

Well, if one atom can destroy so much

So how much can destroy the man?

“Let's kill me on Golden Staircase” – says a daughter of the Rhine

To monster who devoured her child as soon as it was born

Miss Death today's so charming dressed in Mary Pickford's hats

She's playing the violin and covering her face

The Cyrenaics are learning how to fall down on knees

Or else are trading, copulating and insulting blessings

So many people know so much

Nobody thinks enough

“No signs in case of solitude” to the former Healer screamed

Sixteen years old Karl Rossmann – the man who disappeared

Jim Casy the preacher beneath the gates to love

He dreams of Lady Jennings in duet with Missis Boyd

Five hundred white horses are trampling the wedding band

While the immortal Kemos took Ekecheiria in remand

Well, what is matter most today:

Freedom or security?

“Excuse me Mr. Tristan” – Till Eulenspiegel said

“Can I take your sweet Iseult if you can’t make me dead?”

Meanwhile at abandoned khutor the Lover of Great Bear

Paralyzed with wild fear sighing to Joseph K

“Look, Velazquez and Rembrandt are drawing genitals on walls

Expecting the excitement and respect of local slums

So should we rush into disturbed waves

Should we die bit by bit on rocks?”

“It’s raining to the Temple” – Rudyard Kipling smiled

“You’d better stay away from here – you’re not a Widow’s child”

So the workers' pontiff came on the streets spying naked Melusine

Then the ghost of Hiram Abiff proudly entered the scene

Striding across the darkness with some attributes in hands

In left he keeps the steel square – in right he keeps the ankhs

Who experienced astral travels

Will not be lost in the visible world

“Lord, give me the rule over people’s hearts and minds

I will please all nations” – dazed Konrad still cries

Just like son of Dogon’s Nommo or else like Prometheus

Blaspheming although the vultures are flying to his breast

Silence in empty windows, loneliness in the watchtower

Their dreams are gone, their souls spent their blood has gone sour

But what if the blasphemers

What if they all are cherished?

“Oh, Mistress of the Horizon – Oh, Lady of the Birth House

Why didn’t you take pity on me?” – Vasily Bazarov shouts

N’ the Candid’s crew on sinking ship soon they all will freeze

But the just one thing they’re worrying: who on which side is

In addition, the owl of Minerva spreads its wings at the break of dawn

Fleeing from the red-eared hounds sent by an enraged Arawn

If hope is favorable wind

The boats are like a dreams

Now the Crescent moon is rising and people kind of less

Sourdough Madonna's fighting for survival - what a zest

The number of answers equals to number moons of Mars

And everybody wants to buy the costume Bert Lahr's

Even Mikhail Botvinnik at the opening trying to prove

That there's not time for white but for black to move

If pleasure is a value

Better not to be born

Cubist banker standing with a rope beside the larch

Still too transparent view it is just an early March

"Poverty is a great wealth" - he deceives himself and crowd

But amid the naive cheering the psychopath's laughing out loud

“In vain all the signs from Heaven – in vain all the bells resound

Nobody hears, nobody sees – this place is deaf and blind”

Two sides and one purpose

But their plan won't work

What am I supposed to write about on the edge of time?

When the art turned into a kitsch, when all sanctities fell down

When love is just a pornography, when the science is the faith

When real Ladies and great Heroes hide in desecrated grave

When the critics and the censors are the guards of correctness

When promiscuity is a virtue, when freedom emanates darkness

When even the speech of hate

Is called the speech of truth