Я признательна Брюсу Эсригу, который помог мне отредактировать англоязычные тексты, проявив при этом свойственные ему вдумчивость, остроумие, любовь к слову (а также пристрастие к точке с запятой).

Искренне благодарю Рашель Миневич, Эда Побужанского и Александра (Сашу) Казакова за полезные советы и ценные замечания.

Я рада, что Анастасия Шеперд стала моим партнёром в литературной игре, которую мы назвали «Странники в странном мире». Часть этой игры вошла в цикл The Age of discovery.

With love to my family: Ada and Zinovy Kane, Bruce Esrig and Ariel

With gratitude to my teachers:

Vyacheslav Leikin,

Stella Verbitskaya,

Professor Ellen Chances,

Craig Keller,

Master Cheng Hsiang Yu,

Sensei Greg O’Connor,

Robert Friedman,

to the communities of the Millburn Club, Beth Hatikvah synagogue, the Aikido Centers of New Jersey, Madison Studio Yoga, and the Arts by the People program.

Acknowledgements

I am grateful to Bruce Esrig for editing the English language texts. He brought to this task his penchant for deep thought, his playful sense of humor and his love of words and of semicolons.

I want to thank Rashel Minevich, Ed Pobuzhansky and Aleksandr (Sasha) Kazakov for insightful comments and valuable suggestions.

I am glad that Anastasya Shepherd is my co-creator of the literary game we called “Travelers in a strange world”. This game is great fun to play, and it inspired “The Age of discovery”.

Metamorphosis

English language poems

Metamorphosis

What I used to think of

As myself

Turned out to be

A chrysalis.

Now it has split open.

An old woman is slowly emerging.

She will wait patiently

For her crumpled rags to unfurl,

For the sun to harden them

Into wings.

Ripening

She fancies that her bed is drawn

into a dimness which appears

to be the deep of all her fears

but which, in point of fact, is dawn.

Not life or death,

Creation or its fall,

Not good or evil,

But the whole, the all —

This fruit of knowledge

Is still dim, still green.

The ripening of dawn

Remains unseen.

The soul does not yet trust

The sense of sight,

Still hides in terror

From the kindling light.

It’s here, though each glimpse of it is brief,

It’s here, the lambent glow of joy and grief.

The Age of discovery

1. Indra’s net

One story of this world

Begins with “Let there be light”.

I do not think that punctuation

Had been invented

When these words were first recorded.

But judging from what follows,

An exclamation mark

Should cap that sentence.

But what about Indra’s net?

What are the words

That first emitted and still carry

The light that knits it into one great whole?

What punctuation should we use?

A question mark seems most fitting.

You and I, like everybody else,

Are both:

Jewels linked into a net

And reflections bouncing within a hall of mirrors.

But let us not get trapped.

We have the power to play it

Like a game, a dance,

A laugh-inducing tickle.

2. Voyagers

Wake up! Wake up!

There is a porthole, a port, a portal,

A momentary gap

Right here,

Where the past

Meets with the future.

A dawn breeze is rising.

You can glimpse the swaying masts,

The white sails being hoisted.

You can hear the seagulls laughing,

The lines groaning, singing,

Taut with force

Ready to propel the ship.

Let us arise and cross the threshold,

Let us run

To where the land and the water

Meet.

It is for us to name the vessel,

To unfurl the flag,

To set course

Across an uncharted sea.

3. Exploration

made of echoing emptiness

pulling itself together…