Москва – Афон. Mosca – Athos. Moscow – Athos. Μόσχα – Άθως. Александра Крючкова

niente?!

      Il mio sacco sta finora vuoto in attesa:

      con chi?

      nel giorno o di notte? impegnati

      o condannati a girare uno dopo l’altro?

      nella cattura? sotto la coperta?

      è sgualcito il mio biglietto dagli sforzi inutili, —

      l’Universo

      è stato cucito in anticipo

      dal Signore, croce per croce,

      su una macchina da scrivere!

      Secondo le previsioni,

      si aspetta l’aria gelida ma di mimosa,

      l’inverno è arrivato al punto morto! —

      un manrovescio nella tempesta di neve,

      lo schiaffo in faccia volò via dai cardini, —

      il Creatore sta scherzando? —

      le ragazze sorvegliate dal Cielo

      sono fragili e troppo vulnerabili! —

      ci sono poche primavere nella scorta,

      mentre la neve gira già in coma,

      però… facciamo l’altro!

      Col potere di veto:

      La luce alle tenebre!

      La direzione verso l’estate!

      La tristezza va gettata via dalla nave delle Galassie!

      Sono un’isola del tesoro, attraccami!

      Dall’Inizio dell’Inizio

      è destinato il cammino di ogni Domani:

      il crocevia dei mondi nebbiosi di Howard Love-Craft,

      le date delle feste di palazzo,

      la mappa degli astrologi-magi,

      lo spirale di salite,

      gli spettacoli sul palco del teatro,

      la compatibilità dei nomi,

      l’univocità dello stendardo della vittoria,

      l’ordine dei tempi,

      il mio Aprile, il tuo Febbraio,

      vendetta di Marzo?

      no, è barrato, allora

      il ponte…

04.02.20244 Febbraio 2024

      The Bridge of March

      From the Beginning of the true Beginning,

      the path of one’s Tomorrow is set,

      as well as Misty Worlds of Howard Love-Craft,

      as dates of palace feasts, the magi maps,

      the spiral of ascension, each performance

      on stage in theater, compatible surnames,

      unambiguity of banners, flags, the order

      of days and times, revenge of March, and more

      your February, brazenly marched through

      on canvas, black and white, by blooming April!

      I’m a flower, so young, impudent… witch?!

      Here is the chalk to circle a protection.

      In binding – utter nonsense! – full of love,

      enough for everyone, my paper boat’s sailing

      among the ice, alone, and that’s a sin! —

      You think the emptiness beyond the line is beauty?

      Offset book’s pain boils, burning in the cold,

      it’s bursting out, bubbling like a poison!

      The knives of talks are sharpened by deaf brain,

      illusions of my mind and judging grannies:

      – A century of overdue! – I’m late…

      one hundred one per cent of railway stations,

      both too iconic and not so much at all, —

      that deadly late to our love-story…

      But still I love you – as forget-me-nots! —

      Admit it, hiding shadow in silence,

      you, drowning and mute, just look and see:

      there are no anchors more in Friday matrix.

      The cozy hole’s a shelter for the knight,

      reality retreats in sleeping niches,

      the star above the Mountain fell down —

      again, against and breaking laws! – a trifle?! —

      Your net for butterflies has catched my heart, enjoy!

      My empty sack awaits: away with whom or how?

      engaged or doomed to follow the trail?

      to day? to night? or captured? under blanket?

      The ticket’s shrunken – efforts were in vain.

      The Universe was stitched crosswise beforehand

      on a typewriter, fiction like, by God.

      They forecast frosty air of mimosa, —

      The winter is preoccupied, – dead end.

      The slap of insult in the face of blizzard

      flew off its hinges. Guarded from above,

      too vulnerable, girls are so fragile!

      Is the Creator kidding? – What is left

      of spring in stash? The snow got a coma.

      I’ll use my veto power – dark times! —

      Turn on the lights! I’m heading for the summer.

      Let’s overboard the sadness from the ship

      of Galaxies! I am a treasure island,

      so moor your Universe, since from the true Beginning,

      the path of one’s Tomorrow is set,

      as well as Misty Worlds of Howard Love-Craft,

      as dates of palace feasts, the magi maps,

      the spiral of ascension, each performance

      on stage in theater, compatible surnames,

      unambiguity of banners, flags, the order

      of days and times, each step as well as each

      my April and your February, even

      revenge of March? – no, crossed out, so

      it means the bridge…

04.02.2024Febbruary 04, 2024

      Γέφυρα του Μάρτη

      Από την Αρχή της αληθινής Αρχής,

      περιγράφεται η πορεία προς το Αύριο.

      Ως οι ομιχλώδεις Κόσμοι

      του Howard

      Love-

      craft,

      οι ημερομηνίες των

      γιορτών του παλατιού,

      αστρικοί χάρτες

      των μάγων,

      η