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                              1.

A strangest ghost a witness of the me, —

Prophetic, – from the spheres of deadly peace

Arose right front of my spontaneous gaze; —

The things 'bout passed war were in his words;

«How shall we bury it?» – he’ve asked, and I

Felt in the certain pause, and I saw

The vision of unquiet macrocosm.

«How shall we bury it? Should be there tomb?

Should be that sad? – I read your thinker mood; —

Cause it is, firstly, sad to realize

What sort of groan it brings to resolute

Its memory to-come.» – «Thought to foregone.» —

«That’s it: we’ve got to bury it. Although,

The joy of making it, deliberate joy,

Like common ease, could morally confuse

That half of world of citizens, whose pride

Relates to all the dear facts of noble loss; —

Th’unsatisfied dramaticism oppose

To the unseriousity frivolous,

And that’s… to-war?“ – „Suppose, to count on both

Effects will do the whole of worldly truth…» —

«Like in the time of gladiators’ youth?» —

«Oh, no!» – «Although ’twas the performance

Of the pra-ethos of no-foe. Their battles,

Staged, were to express quite certain morals:

Rome used to give to History a chance

To rehabilitate in looser a victor.» —

«But that is rather to celebrity —

Not to the all-repose – of War!» – «Time’s gone?» —

«Ukrain you’ve mentioned, the modernity

Of «public claw» by that?» – «What we don’t want.» —

And, as I stayed quite dumb; – he: – «Not we want

To think the War; we bury it. Our war

Is over, there’s no other war.» – «At all?» —

«For you to get: the War is not discrete; —

Its being is of the matters different?

Me-think, its constitution is permanent.

And what we bury here had its proud end.» —

Well, «Yes» I said. – «So, what we’ve meant,

That must be like, what foe thinks as friend,

Cause, not a foe any more, refused

He’ve been to bear the woe.» – «And what is it?» —

«Compare to th’ ended, «twill have no end.» – «Weird…» —

«Yes, «tmust be like what… CAn be repeated,

Each time with freer memory replayed.» —

«GOOD memory?…» – «Thought smiles, well-comprehend!

New memory of The War-Burial event.» —

«If that… mysterious festivity

Like Carny greatly-mad supposed to be,

Then only thought «bout it is of the…

Mystery,…the secret there,…very thing

Within the Theme, – you understand?“ – „Indeed

That must inherit the Competity

As part of freeing Act, and all the Art,

All sort of, suiting to fair Ritual…» —

«Undoubtedly. And, so, the question still:

What is that main… intrigue, the Carny’s riddle,

Point of the Mystery? As you can see,

Just «on the usual wing», like that in Spain58,

With’t secret motive, it will be quite vain, —

I mean, vain for the Whole-War’s burial theme.» —

«If you can tell me just one thing», – he said, —

Though it was shining our words between:

Please, can we ever tell, on thousand percent,

On newer way of thought, who is «the friend»

And who’s foe-nO-more… of the End», you know?» —

«No. We can’t tell this… from the start, at least.» —

«Oh, thinker’s bliss! The question th’answer is.

That’s first of secrets – who for whom there is.» —

His face expressed quite a unique grimace.

And like that would‘ve been the Light bless us

To play a conversation more like fun,

The irony in words has come, and things.

«Your Fonomore!» – I laughed, – child of the dreams,

Exclusively created son by clever word

Of lingua-hooligan, done just like this!

Out of your ghostly head!“ – „Feast jealous?

Zealous dead?“ – „Fantastic personage’s that!

To imagine, he’s out of the dark;

Miraculous cloak all covers him; —

Surrounded by others, harlequins

And fools, and many a beings unseen,

He moves like psychedelic king, and hymns…» —

«The harmless See of Sin… But listen; see…» —

Ghost looked at me, – «those funny fools you mean; —

What are «the fools»? Are they as same, as him?

Or they appeared all from gnostic womb

Of the Unfathomable Lot’s magazine,

With very news of that the War we think

Existed on this Earth yet have ne’er been?

What a Jew Shestov59 could «ve dream’ngly seen,

Or like that Mister Happy History —

«No-Holocaust-no-Auschwitz» Doc60 – brings

Loud as the facts against the hissed story

Of the «gas times» limitlessly horrid,

As if true Nazis’ records was a joke:

No hair, no bones no kameras, no films;

There was no Human shock, but just a dream!

That schism changed Peace of Clock – a childish dream,

No more than just a little spoilt seemed…“ – „The flock

Of thoughts….“ – I’ve took a lead, – „No, we can’t do

So that the things, we look at, will be like…

Oh, no. We do we bury th’ended War;

If that’s a pseudo type, the End we’ve thought

Should be… alas!…’twill be like… the War start!

The fools are.., though But-the-But gigged their times…» —

…«Just look: to be «no more the foes», – ghost smiled; —

«They’re not „the friends“ yet, is’t all right? And so…» —

«The some could really be the „Endsome foe“.» —

«Or called as «th’endful» as one full of End;

The End-fool foe – great! a name suites one at all!» —

«What if that’s Mr War Crime out of manhole?» —

I felt, I can’t provoke not. – «Kindly joke.» —

He answered. – «Well, it can be so; fear’s choked.

Let him be dressed all, let him swing and walk,

And let the mystery works: – where’s his friend?

Has he a friend? Though, there must be «the friends»,

But does he know them? Or do they know him?

In fact, that’s, mostly, up to role of fools

To be a sort of messengers within

The Project. And, even though I would see

In light of my own logic that example

Of the last be better idol not alive,

But anyway, in general, fool’s task, —

To that we find them being of foe type, —

To act that way «the friends» could be found right.

Dilemma is: who’s first to witness there

For the other’s side?“ – he wisely sighed. – „Wild

Is the sight in games of doubling mind; – dim

Is the truth of darker dream for unforeseen…

What have you done to my thought blind? Me-seem,

It’s getting to absorb…» – «The vanity?» —

Good joke! «twas a ghost’s singing. (Clarity,

Oh, clarity! Fool is your reality!)

…«Exotic dispute we are bringing thus; —

Yes, «tmakes me wonder – clever words of yours: —

To do that th’ «Carny’s eidos»61 will be just,

(What should be the War’s Funeral, repose,)

To do so we should humanize the pride

In fool, the foe’s pride, but in the name of…» —

«All the good, you’re right. Is there any doubt?» —

He asked critically. – «A doubt… Is any

There as such, socratically, the thing «bout,

Like that thought, like that of… Mister Hitler,

Gorgeously who could be seen a figure

Of World Pacifism, main antifascist,

Consciously who bury all-war passions,

Full of anti-dominativism, love?» —

…«In Haides we, the ghosts, heard from above

Once there came to us titanic melos

And voice of hippyistic hooligan

Sang: – «Twenty first century schitzoid man.»62

I felt he’s rather teasing me. – «No, please,

Tell seriously. I know, it’s a fun

For you to make the earthly jokes on me

Full of the crying logic for so done,

But…“ – „What higher-strophically been mentioned,

All should be. No aught of different we

Pointed here than that… he’s «a fool», agree?» —

«A fool a being free… Mad thought’s dimension…

Lucky we, that whole our Great Carny

Not by the only fools there filled will be!» —

«Exactly! How wise to see: more foe’s he

Like – more fool he’s carnyshly.“ – „Already,

What the images here comes to me! To be

For not to be – strange there Lenin, Stalin,

Utopically all-surprising… The key,

However… Key! to notions were rising —

What’s that meaning? Such the «humanizing»,

We’ve discussed, what really do in practice?» —

Him I asked. – «The grave.» – He shortly answered.

(Oh, Man’s thought – Th’Imaginary’s dancer!)

«No need of the reasking glance. You’ve got:

The Carny’s purport is to bury «known-what»;

That’s how «the grave». Do you remember not

What was the dispute start?”… And then I’ve heard

Again that «of the tomb» inside my mind,

(«Should be there tomb?»63…) and once again of that

What «sad way off» could be the joyous laugh.

«However, I find now it’s enough

Of talking for tonight; we’ll do next time.» —

«Where’re you going?» – Me-seen, he moved back.

«Wine ist too earthly luck. Before the dark,

I’m going to have cicuta64 now —

The drink all-philosophiest! Your wow!» —

No! He lifted up his nowhere-from cup,

And, smiling sage, he «hadlle»65 in one gulp,

And, like that in the strange cartoon, turned green,

Turned blue then, and so soon all-disappeared.

All, so spontaneously!… No, I wasn’t feared

Neither I was satisfied; timelessly,

Seem, a last question of the Theme we’ve tried,

Was keeping alchemize my loaded mind,

And the effect was felt like limbo thought

Grotesquely-dissolved in mount of sights

Of all subsequently awaken fancies.

It was all coming up from stranger words

Made wilder dancing of the scene-to-world.

The Provocation how fast was rising

From the back-imagined talk. …That “’bout tomb»,

That “’bout dead», that “’bout doom and light»; —

As if these Two, sane-eyed, sat there, side to side,

At their philosophic table of the Time,

Whilst all around, full of common cries

From yet tonight, the witnesses of our insight,

Beings too-voluntarous, rose to unite

And all got closer, and acted there blind,

And some were just to fight then. All images,

All characters to find… Dude Fonomore,

With others, fans of End, Satirehood, and…

Madder-looking creature broke the hand, then,

Of the Dead Wall’s Clock, and picture changed all.

And all, so suddenly, went to behold:

Oh, that was news unique! that opened wide,

That newly-viewed field there was; – that hugely…

Laid all o’er there… corpse. Bigger than house.

Much bigger than the airplane or gardens

Some, – the Corpse of War, dread on the sun.

And ’twas all full of moving…! life, not life, —

What could I call it like? The crawls, all sounds,

Those all expressions, parasitic mess,

All from inside came out; – ants not ants,

Not so the worms, but looked like flags and guns,

In tones and tints, materialized moods

Of things in shape, in shade, dead sentiments.

…The threats of vision stopped, view lost its ends

Dissolved in shouts for the needed Grave

That time, when my stressed psyche invoked again

Back to my consciousness, that for me then

To be a here-man. And here I am. – Think,

Else, what I can say is that, when my old mind,

Impressed a lot, went wondering alone

Of that if ever could be right to grow

Our seductive «Carny’s theme» at all, —

If e’er we’d find a way to bury doubts

(Oh, what a wisest thought!) «bout Death of War,

So it can’t rise again, per rotten chance; —

To this, I felt, however, but a nerve

Of Human inspiration, – dreaming then

Of sage and dispute to be back again.