With me you listened to Akathist,
With me you were in Hermitage,
LIke a light wind sftly around -
you were so close to me like God,
You whispered words from rear of my mind,
looked eagerly into my eyes,
but just like God who guards befrorehand,
gave all prognosis in advance.
You're not the one whom I'm afraid of,
We're like Matryoshka - human race,
You clothe in me like grown dressing -
Transparent bodies filled with grace.
There are two types in Indian dances:
One for gods, temple, one - for men.
Now I know both, and which is better -
which is more free - I cannot say,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can say this with certainty: we are beings of body and soul, so fused we cannot locate the soul as a separate entity, perhaps soul permeates the whole body like blood or breath or thoughts. So both dances need to be acknowledged. Your image - TRANSPARENT BODIES FILLED WITH GRACE - strikes me as a wonderful description of our body/soul nature. There is a bright light glowing from within that image! // I love the first two stanzas in which we share space and time in perfect harmony, you evoke our souls as well as our physical presence. And the moments shared through music (Akathist) and art (Hermitage) are tender and spiritual. This is a remarkable poem, Liza, it makes me feel fully human, aware of both your physical and spirituality reality, as well as mine. And no fear darkens either of us. This light shines within and without.