kyzil oy ran across the red lakes.
the great rivers flow into kyzil oy,
to meat each other in the same heart.
great pain is in kyzil oy.
there are five red lakes are on kyzil oy land.
there are five wounds in kyzil oy’s heart.
five thousand years to be alone,
near the white lake of tears – kyzil oy.
you roam for five thousand years
in the dead labyrinths of consciousness.
only from time to time at nights, in the light of shimmering.
the white lake has no coasts.
this calm destroys all feelings.
sit on the stones and look at that,
peering in its reflection.
pearls of the red lakes heart
are lost in indefinite sp*ce.
you can’t find them behind the golden mountains.
it’s accessible only to the wind of dreams and wanderings.
the sun with emerald became din.
rubins don’t shine at the bottom.
you wait, your brothers die.
daybreak will flame up.
and the angry voice of divinity
chooses you for d*mnation.
the way will be provided,
where all rooms are in black.
there’s no empty mirrors,
where day and night is candles cry.
that way where fire’s spirit
was playing the flute this warm evening.
that world where shaitan plays,
to the accompaniment of the bugle drums bit.
blood, honey and milk –
nectar of shaman’s immortality.
here the archers throw their whistling.