people’s hearts
to people’s hearts.
Once, the Dalai Lama said
Kolkata airport. A room
for Very Important Persons.
The flight is delayed.
A young diplomat’s boss
turns to a lousy style—
swears, smears, curses.
Enters the Dalai Lama —
greatness plus simplicity.
The boss quiets, disappears,
with him – vanity, felicities.
The young diplomat
tells the Dalai Lama
that as a student
he’d traveled in India
for half a year,
then saw a vision:
the Sixth Guru of the Sikhs
and the young man
were walking on the sea
like on the land.
The Guru, gazing, prophesied:
“You would be asleep
for half of your life,
busy like a puppet.
You would be
awake in the other country,
a poet like a nugget.”
The Dalai Lama thinks,
consults a book, explains:
“Yes, it’s true,”
awards him life chains.
Part II
Russian summer
June
New clothes every day
Daily on vacation, we remove
clothes at a leisurely rate.
It’s slow to unfurl
a sari… you Indian, wait.
An improvised visit to Japan.
A tea and a kimono surprise.
Madam Butterfly undresses,
narrowing her large eyes.
Women in the Emirates wear
sacks with slits to see us.
They also inspire passion —
no time to finish her namaz.
Blessed is Gauguin, who gave
the idea – a Tahiti savage
in the only loincloth. I feast
my eyes, preparing to ravage.
Gypsy love
“Long Road Ahead!” “Eh, Once!”
“Ai Da Nu – Da Dai!”
in the soul, they live and whisper:
“Poet-spinner, you catch.”
“Coachman, Hold Your Horses,”
“Tiny brook” are written. Trouble!
I fall in a thoughtful mood —
what will the bait spin?
Gypsy songs, chavela,
still own their fisheries —
heady, free humor,
eh, its width and breadth.
Dance lovely, sing —
“deceptive speech” is served.
It is worth nothing
to the rich man of cordial words.
1. Till daybreak
Beware of a Gipsy gaze,
don’t trust – or I’ll bewitch,
plunge a dagger of love
in your heart, give a twitch.
Chorus:
A tari-tari-tari,
a tari-ta,
tari-tari-tari,
tari-ta.
Dare for an infernal night,
I, witch in a flash,
will shower kisses on you,
make you tight, refresh.
Chorus
You want to be in pain,
I’ll torture, conceal in my hair.
Bestow your ring, and ah! —
till dawn is Gipsy care.
Chorus
If needles of passion itch,
torment your soul, call
to burn in breasts, if yes,
a fire won’t be small.
Chorus
2. Friday
Happen to love a Gipsy,
I want a horse to mount.
Life – a new penny —
turns to good account.
Disordered, life suddenly
is flooded with joy,
cheerless dismal days
become full-blooded.
I’ll give a Gipsy band
and myself beside
to drink – let us sing
about liberty and pride.
A ring rolls on and on
because you know it’s Friday,
rolls on, and on, and on —
today is Happy Friday.
Take a sip of beauty —
here’s your wit’s end.
Intend to love a Gipsy?
Have the fortune to spend.
All my might is vanishing
but I want as much again,
all the night is vanishing
but I want as much again.
3. Gitana’s love
Gitana will not tolerate
betrayal, will beg a dagger
help to end the harm
when I prefer to die.
Chorus:
He deceived our fortune,
gypsy happiness heat,
took the wings from the crane,
how to fly without wings.
He broke fidelity archly,
got underneath the pledge.
It’s okay if fate blackens,
treachery steals my force.
Chorus
Farewell,