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I've made up my English nick Babe 'n' Co out of my Russian surname Babenco and thought how smart I was. Two days later it occurred to me that my moniker fits more as the name for some porno site. What the hell this way there is more fun!
There are but two kinds of poetry: the talk with a man on God and the talk with God on a man.
My latest poem in English:
Substance of Music
This life is not the endless feast –
We wait for chance and grow old,
To our God we matter least,
And all that glitters is not gold.
With every breath I fall from grace,
Cold wind keeps licking me and swings,
But darkness loosens its embrace
When music rises on its wings.
An evening melting into musk,
Heartbeats echoing through the dusk,
A hidden trail and trodden route,
Allowed joy, forbidden fruit,
The spring and summer, hate and love:
The stuff my music is made of.
Not every dream has come to pass,
My life proceeds through swirling days
To pastures of the greener grass,
So I exist if music plays.
The demons laugh, the angels call,
Space is a desert, time is sand,
Into the abyss I will fall,
Into the ether I’ll ascend.
The din of crowds, secret tryst,
Moonlight alloying with the mist,
A crack of drum, a distant flute,
A narrow path to absolute,
The fall and winter, angst and love:
The stuff my music is made of.
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Joined 2003-01-27T09:58:02Z
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