inquisitors burned
Salem and Holland “witches,”
not burning away.7
A dragon discontinued
his fire exhalation,
closed to an African she-elephant,
got her reciprocity.
A fire-girl tempted
ineffectively the Buddha.
Finally, the flame subsided,
stopped joking with the lovers.
They – shocked, silent —
plodded to the water to cheer up,
and noticed
how the Moon had illuminated
the landscape
recognizable in the natural light.
A yesterday
Sun orchestra of color-music
gave place
to a silver homophony
of the Full Moon’s saxophone.
After coming back,
the two warmed up by the fire,
made a small raft.
A little monkey tried
to hit them with coconuts.
Enticed for some time with bananas,
it ran up to the hot coals —
and not ready for a fire walking —
returned, beaten, to the forest.
The raft was on the water.
The bride who imbibed
the temper and vigor of the fire
posed as a hetaera
from a Khajuraho temple,
the most erotic
on the Earth.
A bracing, gentle wind
played with her hair,
reaching her waist.
A twinkly, ardent gaze.
Cherry-ripe lips.
The tremulous agitated breast
resembled in miniature
the risen Sun and the Moon
staying at the same elevation —
the breast of the Galaxy.
The bridegroom placed his palms
under the violently-round
tight breasts.
Through them
he perceived the Galaxy,
felt its heartbeat.
He thought about the moment
when the Galaxy and the beloved —
two flames of one fire —
one through the other
would become his wife.
Having had realized
the raft
was being carried away,
they dove into the ocean
and for a long, long time
swam toward the shore.
A dolphin swam not far off.
Everest8. A second of the coronation
A place near Darjeeling9 —
one mile from the bottom.
No high for the Himalayas.
The mountains in front —
five miles. Quite something!
Nothing higher exists.
At night, we came here
to be the first in India
to greet the dawn
if no one was at Everest,
of course.
We wait for the “illumination”
in complete darkness.
At last, the head of Chomolungma
turns pink, afterward
the whole of the range
is an illustration to Roerich10,
though it’s hard to believe —
quite the contrary.
The light reaches us
and rather penetrates.
There’s somebody
before the precipice
on the very brink —
we stare wide-eyed
at the figure of a yogi
in “The Sun Salutation” posture.
The prime man of the nation.
We came up and found
plenty to talk about with him.
He’s tall; his sharpened body
covers the earthly dust.
It took him six months
to reach this place.
In the eyes is no vanity
of the world whatever —
a peaceful calm of the sunrise
penetrates through us, shocked,
fascinated by the spiritual face,
creation of Nature and thought,
the closest relation to the Universe.
A strong voice of an actor
soothsays long and happily
we would live in love.
Well, thanks for the prophecy.
Penetrated twofold with the light,
we are not offended
by the ranking – illuminated
second in the country.
A five-minute immunization
Katmandu11. Find narcotics
of any kind on every corner,
plus, if you wish —
go to the opium den,
no obstacles in your path.
We enter to have a look.
The den is packed with
about fifty people sitting,
lying, reclining on mats,
hal-lu-ci-na-ting.
We walk among the transfixed.
The dummies stare straight
before themselves.
Everyone
renounced everything except
the dream taking out
to the universal scope.
The expired air is dreadful —
one can hardly breathe.
It’s