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Zorn
About the Author:
Date of Birth: 1976
City: St. Petersburg, Russia
Home Page: Filin's Home Page
E-mail: Zorn
Contents:
Page 1
THE ARTIST
THE MOTIF OF LONELINESS
THE NIGHT
ABOUT BERLIN
THE BEAUTIFUL ONE
LOOKING THROUGH THE WINDOW
ECOLOGICAL ONE
MY BELOVED ONE
ABOUT PETEHR (ST. PETERSBURG)
WHITE FLOWERS
THE ONE CHASING THE SUN
CATERPILLAR
Page 2
Graffiti
THE ARTISTAn artist into the Garden of Paradise had been invited.
He saw the flower there, that was beautiful,
And defeated was he with its beauty.
His visiting the Garden came to the end, although,
In his dreams, when he was all alone,
He dated his chosen one -
The beautiful Orchid.
He was in love.
He was in love with the flower, which was the most beautiful one all around the world.
And every time he was awake with the dawn,
He parted with the flower until the next night falls.
So, when he closed his eyes again,
The flower came again in front of him,
And crying was he for his feelings.
So many years have passed, the artist appeared to be in the marvelous Garden again.
Tormenting the hope, he rushed in there,
And fell he on his knees in front of the wonder of his.
Pronounced not a word he told her about his love.
And passed onЕ
THE MOTIF OF LONELINESSThere was a man once upon a time,
Peace and rest were in his home.
The door didn't squeak
On his way back to home.
He used to take a guitar
And play his strange motif,
Music of his loneliness,
Music, which nobody knew but he.
And the Moon used to embrace him
And lead him through a secret path.
To the place, where dreams are being born,
To the place, where one is being led by
Refrain:
The dark road, the black eyes,
The anxious soul, and the feeling,
That all that is not for you.
Not that I knew that man,
Although, when the time of the Moon comes,
I'm ready to stare at the flame for hours,
And inside of the place, where dreams are being born.
And I'm sure about my feelings,
I'm sure they won't let me down,
They will stop me, when it's necessary,
They will push me, when it's necessary.
And the Moon will embrace me
And will lead me through a secret path.
To the place, where dreams are being born,
To the place, where one is being led by
Refrain:
The dark road, the black eyes,
The anxious soul, and the feeling,
That all that is not for you.
But I won't stay home all alone,
I'll take my guitar.
And I'll play the strange motif to the Moon,
The motif I cannot remember, but the one I love and take care of.
Refrain:
The dark road, the black eyes,
The anxious soul, and the feeling,
That all that is not for you.
THE NIGHT
The night, street lamps present us peace and rest.
The night, the quite behind the doors watch over the dreams behind the wall.
The stars, like millions of eyes, are looking through the window all at a time.
It is not that important that their light is cold, they give a warmness to one's soul.
The Moon's song's running quietly, moving to nowhere, like a clue.
When you listen to it, you'll understand
What love unrequited means.
Refrain:
The night, give me a mouthful of dark skies.
Don't torture me with thirst, don't turn out me.
Just let me darken your door.
We lack of words at night so often,
Though, do we need 'em,
When there're millions of eyes, and the song of the Moon's, and the quite,
Given us with the street lamps.
The night, you give us dreams, you give us love.
The pain leaves us at night, the pain that returns with the morning over and over again.
The night gives us freedom of thoughts, deeds and words.
The weak ones sink in the sea of doubts, the strong ones are awaited by the night on the islands.
Refrain:
The night, give me a mouthful of dark skies.
Don't torture me with thirst, don't turn out me.
Just let me darken your door.
We lack of words at night so often,
Though, do we need 'em,
When there're millions of eyes, and the song of the Moon's, and the quite,
Given us with the street lamps.
ABOUT BERLINWe were packing our things, we felt good.
We were leaving together, we felt good.
We got to know each other on our way,
The way we were.
We faced the sun and the plank beds, but we were not cast down.
We felt bored at a time, but then,
We felt bored at a time, but then,
ThenЕ everything's become upside-down.
And the first experience of acquaintance,
Though, perhaps, not the first one,
The outcome was not that simple,
The outcome happen to be by and by.
We can fight for ourselves,
The hunger's not an obstacle for us.
We've got wine! What are you waiting for?
Fill glasses! It's gonna be fun!
So quickly two weeks have passed,
The return trip is tiresome and short.
The usual tasks are awaiting us at home: the diploma project and shaking.
A bus, subway, and stuffy heat.
A bus, subway, and stuffy heat.
Well, BerlinЕ
We promise we'll be back,
And we'll keep the date.
It means we don't say good bye to you.
We'll just see you around.
THE BEAUTIFUL ONERaise, and spread your wings.
Blossom out like a crimson flower.
Cover earth with yourself, warm it away from people.
Tell me how to find the exit.
Help me to avoid the nets.
I wanna touch you,
But you're hot like a flame.
I've burnt myself not just once
With the light of those fire eyes.
But they wouldn't let me in, saying the time hasn't come.
And the cold stars trickle down from the skies.
Like the white drops from the black sheet of paper,
Like the bitter tears stream down one's cheeks,
Like the morning caresses the woods with dew.
And the dark rivers live in the quite,
And the waves sing an inaudible song
About the way I should look into her eyes,
About the way I should find my shelter.
And three-beak birds
Scream and abuse each other.
And sometimes I cannot be sure of the meaning of river surf' song.
Raise, and spread your wings.
Blossom out like a crimson flower.
Cover earth with yourself, warm it away from people.
LOOKING THROUGH THE WINDOWLooking through the window can be of interest sometimes.
Don't know, why I'm saying that.
It's worth knowing you're helpful to someone.
The flat, car, and guitar are your ideal.
You are being told your look is crazy sometimes.
You smile back as a reply, and wave your hand.
You don't know, why you kill yourself sometimes.
They and yourself want you as you are.
Refrain:
Be yourself if only for a day,
Be yourself if only for an hour.
Don't hide your light under a bushel again
For the moment of happiness is now only.
Let them know,
Let them understand who you are,
That you're the master of yourself,
And that's the main principle of yours.
Looking through the window can be of help sometimes.
You learn many new and needful things to yourself.
But should you exert yourself only for loosing your temper afterwards
And splashing out your anger onto your best friends.
You don't care at all at your best friend' fucking about's.
You do know beforehand it's bullshit.
Your fave melody plays back on your walkman,
And you're laughing: "Yep! That's music, and it's for me!"
Refrain:
Be yourself if only for a day,
Be yourself if only for an hour.
Don't hide your light under a bushel again
For the moment of happiness is now only.
Let them know,
Let them understand who you are,
That you're the master of yourself,
And that's the main principle of yours.
Looking through the window can so upright sometimes.
You even don't know why you were looking through the window.
You can see a fraud, and it's like a poniard in the heart.
And your hand becomes cold in spite of his shaking.
The summer thunder will strike across the skies.
And the warm rain drops will knock against the pane.
You are what you are, and whoever you might be,
Be yourself, and there'll be warmness in your soul.
Refrain:
Be yourself if only for a day,
Be yourself if only for an hour.
Don't hide your light under a bushel again
For the moment of happiness is now only.
Let them know,
Let them understand who you are,
That you're the master of yourself,
And that's the main principle of yours.
ECOLOGICAL ONEThe well-aimed bullet is pierced the heart.
We patch up wounded souls with lead today.
The last unfinished glass on the table.
Like an old fairy-tale with unhappy end.
Tears dried up on the leaves long ago,
The trees have forgotten how to cry.
The mighty roots were so close
To starting all over again.
Do not raise high up to heaven the temple of broken illusions.
Don't look down upon nobody, do not let yourself down.
Not an angel you are, not a demon you are.
Be on the alert always, do not relax.
How much of lead do we need today
To make trees cry again.
To get the rest back into the soul.
How much of lead do we need today.
How many candles do we need to pray to forgiveness of our sins.
To make trees cry again, and make us start living.
MY BELOVED ONEThere's full Moon in the skies, and my soul is full
Of love towards you, my beloved one.
Night is hiding in your eyes,
And the stars are plaited into your hair.
You are the only one, who can help me
To resurrect my hope.
Your voice is flowing like a brook,
And your laughter is similar to the birds' singing.
I've been searching for you for so long
Among the unfamiliar faces.
The song of Mother-Moon will calm my mind down,
Will raise it the way they raise the bridges over the Neva.
Be the Moon to me today, my darling,
Light up my way to home, light up my way to home.
Be the Moon to me today, my darling,
Light up my way to home, stay with me.
ABOUT PETEHR (ST. PETERSBURG)The stone sack, town block, dirty walls,
I love you so much, the grey city-on-the-Neva.
How much time's left for us to be together,
It might be a life, or two ones, or just the song perhaps.
Bridge spans are like the shunts of lacerated veins.
Folks are sleeping, which doesn't mean the city's asleep.
Moonlight fights for its way being reflected from the walls.
The city is like a captain, and the captain is on the alert always.
When walking down the street alone at night,
The city embraces you with the lamp's light.
Your thoughts flows by the beautiful shop windows,
Which are lightened up just until the new day comes.
The road moves on forward with the dotted line of lights.
My footprints will stay on wet asphalt.
I'll come through a hundred paths, through hundred roads.
But I will return to this city for I feel lonely without it.
The stone sack, town block, dirty walls,
I love you so much, the grey city-on-the-Neva.
How much time's left for us to be together,
It might be a life, or two ones, or just the song perhaps.
WHITE FLOWERSWhite flowers are in your hands.
Raise your eyes, look up.
Star string moves South.
That means you became older.
Dip the flowers into water of source,
And they will rise like golden daybreak.
They will blossom out everywhere like tongues of bonfire.
And they will melt ice in cold souls.
Refrain:
But you can hear the voice behind your back.
It wouldn't let you fall asleep. It calls on you to go after it.
You cannot cheat on the voiceЕ
Еto trample earth, to blind the skies,
to drown sea, to lull time.
To grab the stars from heaven, to keep the dream in one's hands.
To see eternity and fall into futility.
Dip the flowers into strong wine.
And you'll learn about bitterness of those offences.
Which recalls our thoughts about the past.
'Cause of them the heart aches sometimes.
Refrain:
But you can hear the voice behind your back.
It wouldn't let you fall asleep. It calls on you to go after it.
You cannot cheat on the voiceЕ
Еto trample earth, to blind the skies,
to drown sea, to lull time.
To grab the stars from heaven, to keep the dream in one's hands.
To see eternity and fall into futility.
THE ONE CHASING THE SUNBright and bright too, light and light too.
Transparent and fragile judging by the appearance.
It beckons to itself obsessed in the instant of happiness,
Though it's doomed to be alone.
But the fingers slide across the ice,
I cannot find the ground under my feet.
I can hear just your voice,
Which calls me to move after.
He was going upward, he saw the sun.
The mountains smiled at him.
But there's ill fate with every other step. No! I'd rather say the destiny.
That hour, or the minute, or the moment. Who gives a shit,
The fall was coming.
He knew everything for sure, but proceeded forward with confidence.
In hope to cast off fate's chains.
And to prove himself what madmen
Are ready for because of a trifle.
My sun, with warmness and the light
Warm my soul, and with the new dawn
Wind-rose will call for the road.
And if you say you love me, than I'm ready,
I'm ready to join you in your trip.
CATERPILLARThe floor made of concrete, the border is a bit higher than the back of beyond.
A Caterpillar will measure this city with its steps.
And you'll see the reflection of a candle in the opposite window.
The candle, which gives you light, warmness, calmness.
And in the silence you'll miss the light cracking sound of the primer.
The candle's gone, and light's left behind.
The primer's burnt down, and not a problem's left.
Your Caterpillar guides you on.
And there's only the concrete under your feet, and that boarder,
Which is higher than the back of beyond.
The brightness of speeding headlights, you're not alone in the silence of night.
You're moving to the place, where there's the reflection of shop-windows.
Where there's the noise of wheels, and muffled scream in the night.
The squeal of brakes, and the reflection of the candle
In the opposite window.
You're moving step by step in order to learn the secret.
The tread cuts hundreds of cigarette sparks.
There's fire in my eyes, but do not judge so severely.
And the heart is beating like the engine,
And the heart is dying to leave the chest like a bird.
And the new day will powder your eyes.
Everything will be clear, which is even a bit of pity.
That you know everything, and all the paths are opened,
That there's only the wall in front of you
And there's nowhere to go on further.
Although at the moment, when the last beam of sun disappears
You're standing once again, surrounding with the night' silence,
And there's only the concrete under your feet, and that boarder,
Which is higher than the back of beyond.
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