Posts tagged ‘death’
Put your hands on my shoulders, don’t break,
It will be easier for us to part.
Let the roads divide for our sake,
This dance is the last one, sorry, sweetheart.
Place your hands on my shoulders to say goodbye,
It will be easier to leave, you’ll see.
Let our paths scatter under the sky,
This dance is the last one, forgive me.
| Я сжег себя на медленных кострах, Отдал себя всем ветрам и дорогам И по полю развеял серый прах Души моей, взыскующей о многом. Уста мои сдружились с немотой, И насмерть слух молчаньем черным ранен; Луна взойдет над древней пустотой — Мне зов ее понятен и желанен. В дыхании размеренных Часов Один закон, заложенный судьбою: – Ни чисел нет, ни меры, ни весов, И все дела – развеются с тобою. | I burned myself on slow bonfires, deep and long, Gave myself to the winds and every track. Across the field I scattered, gray and strong, The ash of my soul won’t come back. My lips have made a friendship with the mute, My hearing’s mortally wounded by black silence. The moon will rise above the ancient, bare pursuit I know her call, I long for its fierce violence. In the slow breathing of the measured hours One law is written by the fate I own: There are no numbers, weights, nor scaling powers, And all your deeds will scatter like a bone. |
DeepSeek’s translation of Vladimir Korovin-Piotrovsky poem (Владимир Корвин-Пиотровский)
The analogy with reincarnations as dominoes is interesting – when they are lined up in a row and the first domino falls on the second, and so on – that is samsara. And no questions arise when it is a closed circle, i.e., if the end is the beginning.
But if the circle is broken by Nirvana (Moksha), then a question immediately arises – one that the Buddha refused to answer: if someone who has completely paid off their karma has no more bad karma and has attained Nirvana (timelessness), then what initiates a new cycle of samsara? Where does the karma for a new life come from?
| To be average. To live without meaning and still wake up on time. To wear a comedy mask while rehearsing a tragedy no one bought tickets for. In the morning you catch a thought – blurred, anxious, unfinished. A thought about emptiness. A thought that maybe nothing was ever supposed to mean anything. In this ordinary reality, this awkward, almost ridiculous world, you give up the idea of being unique. You repeat Newton’s laws out loud, forces applied to a body, as if physics could explain why the body keeps moving when the will does not. You imagine shifting a proton, changing coordinates, altering something fundamental – just enough to escape your own limits. The limits of flesh. The limits of a brain that feels separate, like it’s lying somewhere in a glass jar, connected to electrodes, observing you from a distance. And still this absurd sorrow floating in a cloudy solution does not become smaller. As if it always belonged here. As if it was never a mistake – just another fragment of the story. *** We’ll meet there, and see how fear Has seeped through cracks in the concrete floor. We’ll meet there, and watch it clear – Those thoughts that I will die once more. | Быть посредственностью Жить в бессмысленности Ходить в маске комедии Играть героя трагедии С утра поймать себя на мысли На мысли смазанной и тревожной На мысли об отсутствии смысла На мысли, что кажется невозможной В этой банальной реальности Такого смешного, нелепого мира Отказавшись от уникальности Долго бродить по квартире Повторяя законы Ньютона О силах приложенных к телу Изменить координату протона Подойти к своему пределу К пределу возможностей тела И мозга, что кажется отделенным Что лежит, похоже, в банке Подключенный к электродам Но, от этого абсурдное горе Плавающее в мутном растворе Не кажется сильно меньше Но, кажется частью истории *** Мы встретимся там, и увидим, как страх Просочился сквозь щели в бетонном полу Мы встретимся там и увидим, как в прах Рассыпаются мысли о том, что умру Nastya Kalinina https://t.me/metaphysic_intoxication |
Choose childfree.
Consider a world where birth is mourned and death celebrated, cos life is suffering itself.
P.S. You may ask who will take care of me when I’m old. Live and plan wisely and your money will take care of you much better and guaranteed than any child. I also want to add that even if I risk dying alone, my beautiful childfree life is worth it.
