poezija

NUMBER, Leila Samarrai

NUMBER

In the beginning there was a number and it created harmony
Compacted into 10 heavenly veins.

To him the music – owes.
To him – love owes.
To him – the truth owes.
Beauty? Yes!
Each idol in the head– to him the Holy owes.

The Number feeds the Ethiopian children with monads in the midst of Green Africa
Cele-kula (this you must have known!) is built of Numbers,
It is rolled by children down elysian fields of the Righteous

Number rules as well over the body of Osiris,
The Number testified about remaining loaves
On the bodies of hunchbacks and the poor
Which like dark figures of Calais await the whirlwind of Justice
To banish them from the asylum of Doubt.

Number knows of tomorrows and of yesterdays
Number knows who you are, and who am I.

The Number traverses the army of armies of Amen of Libya
While the sheep bleat and search for wolves.

The army hesitates
And swimmers hesitate
Оh, my geometric sea.

THE CHOIR OF IDEALISTS:

О, Pythagorean triad, show yourself!
Who are you?
What are you?
Have you impoverished for us?
Have you thrown away all your mo – Hopes?

NUMBER:

I came to you as a golden calf and you did not recognize me!
There would be no Hymns of the Nile without – Number,
The Colossus of Rhodes would not be without– Number,
Spartacus, yet him, Liberal, not without the – number!

A number, it is the bald, mad poets
And cotter bolts!
Silly, mad, those crazier, the craziest and… Preludes!

Number – arose from Earth for Saturn.
Fell from heavens for Thoth.

CHOIR OF MATERIALISTS:

Take us to the Grand Cut – to tailor holy dresses the day before the Holy day:
For emperors, and their wet nurses
Once again for wet nurses
For shahs , patricians,
Eagles of gold, aghas, tarragons
And other Proposers?

Number – it is harmony, king and cage for verses.
Even some Jacobite is a Number – scarecrow for the Girondist.
And pipsqueak, of course, Antic C. Ма(n)sоn from feces of the Greek revolution.

Number, those are all beginnings
And causes
The golden section of time in caves
With Metempsychosis.

Number, those are all rejected kisses,
Number – measure of doubtfulness and laughter of the insane paladin,
A tucked in courtesan.

Go to the temple of Eros so they shoot an arrow to your chest.
Let all Lunacies fall in love with you
And lunacy enamored to create itself anew within you

And crazy Eros will look at you
Will take out the heart from the womb of the ideal Semele
Shot, walk down the shores of the Peruvian sea
That is how freedom from the Number is deceitfully summed!

Do not envision the Number divided (do not even think about a fraction)
Remember the ten, with a laugh.

That is how Pythagoras counted as well
1
2
3
4
Counted all the way to ten

Ten shoes
And ten shores
And ten dreams
And ten bridges
And ten lunatics

– Pythagoras finishes;
Forbidden to dip horse bean into the number.

I am Etalides and I have been in… in… plants.
I am Pyrrhus and I sojourned inside the rotten womb of gluttonous emperors.
I am Euphorb and I blinded Homer
Because into the Number much like the Sun you cannot gaze long.

I murdered Achilles,
Tarried within Paris,
I cannot claim I have not within you as well.

And the divers keenly look for him,
Beneath the surface are the sunken ships

Carcasses of Hyperborea
Colonnade of martyrs
Silenced witnesses.

„The Number, those are all heavens” – calculated Pythagoras
and discovered the golden thigh in the Theater.

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drama

Leila Samarrai: THE SECOND BIRTH OF TRAGEDY, Hypnos and Melpomena

Melpomene

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THE SECOND BIRTH OF TRAGEDY

Gods too seek sanctuary in dreams
(Conversation of Hypnos and Melpomena)
(place of deed: the cave of Hypnos)

(Hypnos sits in front of the fireplace,wrapped in fur, shivers from the cold while simultaniously playing with a pendulum carefully observing it from all sides. It appears as though he deeply thought over, those thoughts brightening him. Melpomena enters, all in rags, unkempt hair, bare headed.)

MELPOMENA:
Do not look at me with sleepy eyes! I know where I should be now!
(ripping the remains of the dress from her body and plucking hair. She wept.)

HYPNOS:
Have you canceled the play?

MELPOMENA:
Not I her, but her me… Not I… No longer.

(Hypnos returns to the pendulum and wraps himself in a black chasuble, while he shivers with his entire body.)

MELPOMENA:
(gazing at him)
Trickster, oh Hypnos
Wrapped you are in theater curtains
Blacker they are than thy cave
Wave towards me with your pendulum
I dreamt with an eye open
And I have seen reality
That beloved lie of the Theater
Do it!
Mesmerize me!
For the whisk of the mad hypnothiser
Sways even the wings of Gods
Illusion!
The wings of a bird
Overshadoweded once a dream!
Livid, pale, awake to death
I am no longer Melpomena!
An aggressive clown I am
In the theater of comedy!
(Follow me into the theater!)
Come! Do! Wave your hand!
In front the audience, the wild beast
With a thousand soft heads!
Overshadow me! There, in front of all!
For
Perhaps clean laught(mock)er(y)
Summons the mind to play
And Nature to believe the Truth
In role!
Enchant me!
Either I sleep as before
Or close my eyes.

HYPNOS:
Let us go, but after I stoke the fireplace.

МELPOMENA:
Yes, too cold is for dreams… And I…
Play passions
Improvising merely…
Here and there…
No flash

HYPNOS:
Tragedy!

MELPOMENA:
Fixed her eyes on me, horrified!
Оh, my loving Hegote
From whose lips
I drank
Plunged the knife to hearts
Murdered heroes
In a role I play
And all that…
Miserable, miserably lifeless
Are furries prosecuting me?
Must be because of Megara
She set me against Talia
Maddened by jealous
So my wag sister
Derides me out of vengeance.
Let us go now, depart!
(rises suddenly)

HYPNOS:
May the fire burn
Now that I have stoked it!

MELPOMENA:
One wood is breaking
In the fireplace. It is raw.
His organic nature
Does not let it go aflame!
Same as I… Burning
With fire of violent passion.
Violence! Without passion! That is it!
And the violence!
She burns, but I do not see
Nor the senses feel her.
If I could like before
Believe in passion
I would birth the truth
And be the same old
Playful tragedienne
I lost myself in the theater!
(Why, I?! Melpomena!)
Merely I am a wild cavewoman
Strolling the theater, but not walkng it
The play does not survive.

HYPNOS:
Console yourself, Melpomena! That is good tragedy!

MELPOMENA:
But unblessed!
Unawakened by concious, how was she made?!
Not by my skillful hand!
She made herself!
Broke loose from her Createress!
Run amok!
No Muse to tame her!
What inspiration is it?
It is sinister grimacing
And roaring of omni-human
In a shroud of theater curtains
Dead souls, dead tongue awaits me.

HYPNOS:
I am life for I am Dream
I am Illusion and Companion
What I learned
Teaching Calderon
And few more awakened Dreamers
Walking on dreams
Whipping their hopes
Waking untamed desires
Benumbing reminiscences
Rinsing the dream of Gods!
That much double-natured I am!
No need for a sabre nor a blade
Nor a mask
To kill the knavish king
If you can see
The fire of fantasy in the fireplace,
Do not accede for untruth
And do not play from the heart (A Woman!)
Against the Stanislavic pendulum.
(As he spoke it, Tragedy reborn.)

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