THE DAWN & FALL OF SENSES
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THE DAWN & FALL OF SENSES
июнь 2004



Set list:

Crimson sunrise
LP
At the farmstead
An optimistic pig
The fat Mat
Dismissed
LP II
Listen to the rain
An optimistic pig: Epilogue
Crimson sunset


Dedications:
Luda Pochinkina – «LP», «LP II»:
Whether it is good or not, those days I wrote them for you!
Team Russia fans at Euro-2004 – «Dismissed»:
You have shown your loyalty and haven’t deserved that awful disillusionment!

Thanks:
Vera Luchanskaya for high interest, support and questioning me with passion.
Anna Panasko for staying helpful and showing the right way as much as she can.
Luda Pochinkina for «Listen to the rain» poem, which was partly induced by her.
Group 212, economics department of Moscow State University for being so great!
International Society of Poets for being that brave to publish me once more.
And everyone who read the promos, assuring me that this album is going to be good.
Well… Yes, it fucking is! Don’t even try to argue!

The whole program is also dedicated to every pig that has ever flown!
Or flown not... Anyway, no one cares, what those pigs do on their own!


"Crimson sunrise"

Barefoot on cool sand, softly drops touch my feet,
I am stepping in light waves of sea.
They are sleepy by dawn and are lazy to meet,
But are still licking soft – sweet to me!

Slightly crumbles my skin in blue cream of the bay –
I can feel inner fresh of its kiss.
With a tender bright sight I look into new day,
As the sunrise I never to miss.

Throwing luster on waves, the first beams so shy,
But awaited they are by my heart.
Gently crimson turns sky on horizon up high,
Water covers with sparks in each part.

I am taking deep breath, tasting air of birth –
It seems so much free like brave new.
Morning’s calm: and the sea, and the sky, and the earth
Very affable, washed by night’s dew.

Sun is higher, and I smile friendly to it,
Throwing up hands to show my peace.
I go down on sand, thus for minute I sit –
Waves are tickling me under my knees…

Then I lie on my back, salty veil is kind
To greet gracious – feels so nice!
So happy my eyes with the beauty the find,
I enjoy much this crimson sunrise!


"LP"

May be this is strange to read
But I love thinking of You!
Happens, thoughts like these I feed
For some minutes, for a few…

It’s the time then, like a sun,
On my face shines happy smile,
With a crystal brightest fun
Glitter my eyes for a while.

Wings of pleasure take me high,
Soft and calm with low pace,
As on air I keep fly –
And it seems to have no trace!

Thus I lie on sofa still.
As a leaf upon a flow,
And enjoy the warm, I feel
For You, prettiest I know…


"At the farmstead"

There’s a girl that I love,
And she sits over there,
She is smiling, while looking at me.
And the glancing of stars
Of her beautiful hair,
Which is curling warm waves like a sea.

We are resting in shed,
It is our nice lair –
At the farmstead all summer we stay.
Every day is for us,
And we never do care
That it’s prickly to live on dried hay.

Thus we settled on stack –
A delight, which is rare
In a town, but nice at the farm;
It’s best way to relax
For a couple, a pair,
Which brings warm in each feeling and calm.

She looks happy, but she
Must be sleepy right now,
As she yawns so touchingly still…
Softly silence breaks up
By a mooing of cow,
Which is grazing alone near mill…


"An optimistic pig"

I am pig, my skin is pink,
I am lying in the mud,
My eyes small, they slowly blink –
Feels as if I am a god!

Basking lazy in the sun,
In this slush I simply sprawl.
Rolling over – what a fun! –
Sometimes I make grunting call.

I’m digesting acorns, tops,
Lolling in delight about.
In a hurry cow crops,
While pig eats long and loud.

I am glutton – so what? –
Being fat, I lick my lips.
In the sun I’m so hot,
Getting first crust on my hips.

Once they are to come with fork,
Holding knife in their fist –
Thus pig turns into fresh pork…
But I’m still an optimist!


"The fat Mat"

Mat was freckled, with red hair,
Eyes were laughing every time,
He was joking didn’t care,
That he only had one dime.

Lad was poor, lived in corner,
Just cheap food, thus he was thin.
Naughty one, but man with honor:
You could well rely on him.

He was simple, easy going,
With sincere, funny smile…
Years changed as time was flowing –
Haven’t seen him for a while…

In a hotel saw him moving –
Bull in anger, skin turned red,
Eyes came bloodshot, voice was grooving,
Short, thick fingers, shaven head.

Guards looked after his packed pockets,
Suit was crackling with its cry,
Servants buzzed around like rockets…
I stood up… He passed me by.

Golden chain on chest was shining –
Not on neck, cause it’s gone fat,
Hands in gold – someone was mining…

Where are you, my old pal Mat?


"Dismissed"

Those were not a team, who played –
Nation’s hopes were broken straight.
There can be no excuse
For smashed dreams, for that confuse!

Dismal faces, empty eyes,
Husky voices after cries –
Fans look down, can’t believe:
On the fifth day they may leave!

Pain they feel for mass support,
As applause no one to court.
Hands are trembling – they are shocked:
Euro shut the door and locked!

Can’t back up more than they do,
Referees were justly too,
It’s not fair to blame luck…
Native football has just stuck!

Near stadium stay dumb,
With external senses numb,
Fans inside are hollow more:
Why they came here? What for?!

No moments, no goals –
Their idols play in dolls!
Not a single optimist –
They are first to be dismissed…


"LP II"

Neither it is grief, no sorrow,
But it makes me feel so bad;
It’s a kind of being hollow,
Truly it’s remaining sad!

It is rending my heart so,
Pumping pain inside gets hot!
But I even do not know,
Whether care You or not.

And my wings are getting low,
Shine in eyes turns dimmer more –
Not a leaf, but lonely crow,
When You close soul door.

Can’t be that I shall not worry
‘Bout thing, happened today,
And I really feel sorry!
Nothing else can add or say…


"Listen to the rain"

The sorrow rain – my good old friend –
Is tapping on gray roof.
It’s bringing news from my Homeland –
I do not ask for proof.

Cold drops are whispering with peace,
As stranger in long roam,
They do not know, how much I miss
My dell, my land, my home.

I’m locked in jail on same place –
A prisoner in cage.
Another hundred of gray days –
I carve the sticks in rage…

But rain that goes per week twice
Is quiet on the lee,
In talk with me it never lies:
It’s calm because it’s free.

I wish, I could be wizard man,
With clouds fly away.
But no one out ever run,
And I will here stay…

Dreams of my coming back to dell
Are shallow, so vain.
Thus, trapped alone inside this cell,
I listen to the rain…


"An optimistic pig: Epilogue"

Pink pig looks haughty at the door:
It knows what came farmer for,
But no way it wants to stay –
The magic one flies far away…

The pig flaps gently feathered wings
And never minds farm’s easy things,
Glides so high in rays of sun,
With pleasure it grunts in the run…


"Crimson sunset"

Having left warm sandy shore,
I climb higher more and more,
Clutching bushes not to fall,
I ascend a cliff’s steep wall.

Stones slowly down drop,
Still I want to reach the top
To taste feeling that is new
Just for minute, for a few…

Onto cliff me will has led:
Want to see crimson sunset.
Here view is right the best –
Slowly turn sight to the west.

Down under the great plain
Of green gardens with a drain;
There winding river plays
In the gentle evening rays;

Over it a wood to be,
Which leads back to shore of sea;
Wind is blowing in my face –
All in memory I chase.

I step closer to the ledge –
It is just the razor’s edge!
Suddenly I start to feel,
I’m the king of this lone hill!

Wish I was a bird to fly!
Echo takes up my free cry,
I spread arms as if white wings –
Sunset kindly begins…

Changing colors there high,
Feels as if I paint the sky!
It’s as vivid as fruit crush –
Thus I’m working with my brush.

I dab left side and then right,
Flood horizon with soft light,
Magic palette my eyes hold –
I’m the artist of the world!

Final stroke by my brush tip –
Sun is going for a sleep,
And a last glance with a sigh –
Crimson sky waves me good-bye…



Poems, texts, conception, design and arrangements were created by Fjodor Chrome and are his own property.
The original copyrights on every poem and on the whole «The Dawn & Fall Of Senses» project are internationally registered. Unauthorized copying or other copyright infringements are strictly prohibited and illegal!

(c) By Fjodor Chrome in 2004.
Cr.
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