Speaking In Tongues
Scribbling In Voices

Linor Goralik

Translated by Andrusha Georgiev


A Theory of Bloodless Revolts
The Cycle
Heavenly Father







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A Theory Of Bloodless Revolts




Day will come they will gather, the Five,
And decide, it is time to jolt
Contemplating the ways of life,
For the sake of The Truth revolt.
They will factor-in state of minds,
They will set the uprising date.
Alls considered. And besides,
It is History at their gate.

And my door, like a gloomy dream,
Will be slammed by a hefty fist.
Theyll get in like a horrid ream.
Theyll suggest that I join as the Sixth.
Heres a space for the daring bunch,
Quit your pitiful covert game.
Whos provisional?.. Whos in charge?
Wheres the meat, freaking bag of shame?

Get your ass in the line, platoon,
And report No time for fun.
Forward march in one rank or two,
Later on dropping one by one.
Murky lights bleach celestial rag.
Sentries are posted outside.
In the skies, like an eerie flag,
Dreadful moons sailing through the night.

The Five instruct, Hurry up, be quick!
Grab your gun, there's no time for thoughts.
And at once every holster creaks,
Fondly caressing shiny rods.
When youre back youre a hero, man.
Youre the best, never mind that Sixth.
And your babe? Shell be waiting then.
You are single, at this time at least.

(Our ladies are built to wait,
Give'em cause they will find some tears.
There is nothing here to debate.
Dont you ever smirk at their dears.
Color picture: hes by the rocks,
Boots and khakis, a hardy lad.
Languid sigh by the postal box.
Sea of tears when alone in bed.

Days are empty without grief
Heros death is the peak of Fate.
How cute is to weave a wreath,
On his coffin to lay it straight.
Sleep in peace in a quiet place.
God looks after his wasted ants,
Buried fighter is always ace,
Buried lovers forever saints.

Our recruit is slightly dull,
Hes not looking for any fame.
Somethings gone very badly, pal?
Sure thing, hes the one to blame.
Say, youd wanted the li-ber-ties?
Planned a putsch to that easy end?
Now stare in the skies, you whiz,
Pressing kidneys against the sand.)

Hell, I wont be joining the pack,
Hell, I wont say left-right dress!
Bolts will chuckle klux-chicken-cluck
Thank you fellas, I cant care less.
Higher higher the prize is seized!..
But imperfectly taken step
On the brink of a precipice
Sends you flying NOT UP, my pep.

Well be snatched like a furry spoil.
Reins are held by a steady hand
Our Leader will bite some soil,
Lets be straight farewell my friend.
Town square, tidy flowerbeds.
Pressing triggers the winner rules!
Catching bullets with foreheads
Thatd be leaders and, maybe, fools.

Else, the Leader may play smart games
Under sway of a sentiment,
Selling friends whilst avoiding names
Thats the skill one should not resent!
With the mob, by the guillotine,
He will yell to the bloody decks:
Im with you! (Read: Its not my sin!)
Wisely hiding behind the backs.

Use your head thats my crystal ball.
I would rather not flip the dime.
I am not quite a one for all
I prefer: one-day-at-a-time.
My revolts of another kind.
I abhor rulers with the rope,
Yet, elect to submerge in wine,
When Im wretched and without hope.

You are saying a bloodless putsch.
Buddhas grin bounced off your face.
I deplore any bloodless putsch
Contemplated by human race.
One will jerk or deliver punch,
Here we are cartridge-two of lead
Proper symbol for peaceful putsch
Is a hole in the horsemans head.

I will dodge any sacred fight
For The Fairness, or for The Truth,
Yes, afraid for my pity life,
And to hell with The Last Triumph.
Ill keep heading where I see just.
Not for me to wake up the dawn.
Drop your gun, empty-head, at last.
Dont you get it, pal? Drop your




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The Cycle



Perigee


Welcome, tribe of adolescents, unfamiliar!
And disgusting like a roach in cafeteria

Who are these people with their eyes somber?
Mind, if I spit on them from above?
I swear, Ill turn into a dung comber
Only in order to shun their love.
Never belonged to the great and brawly,
I dont know their stagy ways.
Brothers, lift my eyelids slowly,
Maybe I will recognize a face.

She packed up and said in high pitched tone (of voice it is)
Get some gin, before I leave, and no tonic please...

A vaudeville, with my participation,
A farce, hastily sewn with a vibrant string.
It wouldve been a joyful occasion
Had I had found what is my sin.
Something you fix with an ardent show
Sorrowful pose, weeping into handset
I would prefer any ill thing I know,
To those who nightly inhabit my head.

Lawns are glossy, sun is shining bright
Tarnished fighter-jet is flying in my sight.

Window splits the carpet in strips.
The ink-stain of moon as a big gray berry.
He, who always keeps shut his lips
Is hardly fatal, but quite as scary.
Squeaks, eerie laughter, I almost tumble,
Something is crawling under the quilt.
House is filled with a muffled rumble
Of those warplanes, that arent yet built.

Conscript is beggin mommy
And daddy for salami
Just take a hike, you imbecile.
Dont even touch my meal

Who wouldve asked no passionate vows,
And without a heartfelt bull
Id take off my jeans and my blouse,
I am raised not a mincing girl.
Whats your fancy, neurotic kiddo.
Who is at fault? And who is to talk?
Freshen up by the open window,
Need a pill? Maybe the whole stock?

Son of Trediakovsky, Klit, is writing his songs in hexameter.
Hidden in his cadenced rhymes are youthful and bracing parameters.


Dots are all over a thick white paper piece,
Phrases leave splinters in my hands.
What at first glance was simply sentences,
Now is dangling off columns ends.
Sure, one can compromise no roughing.
If sick to your stomach of the whole world
Well, does it matter? To Nobody. Nothing.
Nowhere. No matter what.


Up


Tanyas crying very loud,
Must be something, no doubt
.

Air at last. On the pond scum
Sun is sketching the beauty of dells.
Those who know this kingdom come,
Wont settle for anything else.
Spit that seaweed, be at ease, roll,
Deeply inhale all this moist art,
And, like a slug ended up on the wall,
Down the current depart.

Happy birdie does not know
A freaking thing about us,
Who perpetually bow
To her tricks and all this fuss.

Night is a boat betwixt the capes of a day,
Little mosquito is singing somewhere.
What was appearing as thoughts just yesterday,
Now resembles your worst nightmare.
To hell with the window. Polish the bureau.
Wind the clock. Hang the quilt on the line.
Finding familiar face in the mirror
See no scythe behind

Well work it out, well by-pass
Well manage S'il vous plait.
Its kinda hard to swindle us,
We aint born yesterday.

Howdy, darlings, I am coming out,
Stumbling on things like a sightless mole.
Is it a meadow eager to sprout?
I thought it was still winter-cold.
I persevered, and you, my cherished?
Everythings over, we are intact.
Why are you acting as if Im perished,
Avoiding the eye contact?

Weve been writing, weve been writing.
Fingers are not getting lighter.
Our fingers were combined
In a wing of snow-white

Rows of words, the strophe gets awry,
What is your hurry? Wait a bit.
Fears will fall off, like a husk of rye,
See the dawn? Soggy air is lit.
Cats gonna get it in a clumsy motion,
Toppling the vase, dashed under the porch
City woke up with all this commotion
Ineradicable like a roach.

Round and round is turning Blue Ball
People go crazy of this, after all


Measuring cup will become my friend.
A cautious life I know Im able.
Like a misery monument
A pile of old papers beneath the table.
The worst is behind, it's hard to believe now.
The tremor in hands soon it will go away.
Everythings constantly turning somehow,
And why we are always midway..?



Apogee


Glory! Long live our tender Tsar.
Great sacrifices we bring t your Altar.

Shades are forming rhombs in pairs.
A happy cat fills the streets with his yell.
The game on the planet of oblique squares
Is predictable I can tell.
Letter by letter and row by row
I am nicely euphoric, of course.
Give me a lever well, you know
And I will move many Earths.

He was unlit, in shadows no gleam.
And shadows were growing on him

Lord! Wasnt it me writhing in the dust?
Whod said it is not the end of the race?
Fairy tales! The wars in the past.
Bad guy is done with. The hero is praised.
Fire rescue or stopping a horse
This, my friends, is a child's play
My Messiah. My Universe.
To me. Before me. My Way.



Down


Once upon by our gate,
Air they reckon terminate

Windows froze, it is not funny.
Winter lurks in the wrinkled bedspread.
The current objective is no panic.
Panic will come anyway, I bet.
Why are you shaking like a drunkard? Hey!
Things will be fine, you wreck.
Hardships will pass. Will go. Will stay.
Grab you. Imbed you. Break.



Perigee


Night. Road-strip. Street light. Drug store.
Im half a person no more

Why is the city in this awful glow?
What if I hide under my worn afghan?..



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Heavenly Father



Our Father, who art in the heavens,

Dont sleep, dont eat, crawl into a stinking vault,
Bang your forehead against the ground, in tears.
Scream: Ive sinned! I was deaf and blind! My fault!
Raise you hands, cry out: Lord, I am all ears!
And await the descent of the white robes,
Pour your soul with the streams of blood and sweat.
And the gray sky will be glancing down the slopes
And think: Whats the buzz? Some weirdo, I bet.

Hallowed be they name. Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done

Lets invent a belief, say, in us, for once.
Well appoint The People and revise The History,
Get a few Prophets, work out the Sacred Mystery,
Teach to deem a burp a Divine Utterance,
And well conquer and rule, encourage and seize,
And demand sacrifice, marking door after door
And because of all that, well be way too pleased
To remember: no one worships us anymore.

On earth as it is in heaven.

Outside is the rain, and inside is a boiling tea-pot,
And a small hill of buns on the dish and a fritter
And a pale of white sugar and tea, almost bitter,
And an extra cup each of us wished to have got.
Outside is the chill, here a cat, warm and well,
And a donut, a loaf of fresh bread, smell of leaven.
And a teaspoon is banging like a small Alarm Bell.
And the doorbell rings, you would think Voice of Heaven

Give us this day our daily bread,

Shape a house of bread and an old clock tower,
Pressing knuckles into the softness of crumbs.
Leave your worries behind for a half an hour
And build a Bread City, where we all couldve come.
Make Tashkent and Smolensk, Istanbul and Tsant,
El Dorado, Ithaca, Rome or Green Bay.
Make and eat. From beginning. And to the end.
A simple might, yet flattering, what can you say?..

And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors;

And you thought you would not live to see
The time to collect has, at last, come.
Now they cry, Have mercy on me!
And you whack in the snout: Shut up, you scum.
Now youll show them, what the power is for.
Now youll teach them compassion of the new era.
Now they are not the same as they were before!
Now you are shit too! Divide et impera!

and lead us not into temptation,

Ah, hold out your hand, call me a sweet baby!
Ah, say my angel and kiss on the lips, cutesy.
Whats so depressing, my sun? Youre bored, maybe?
Aint you enjoying a date with your beloved tootsie?
Aint I giving you all my warmth nightly?
Dont you lay like a stiff, talk if you can.
Why have you, sun, shut your eyelids tightly?
And why are you weeping, my precious, again?

but deliver us from the evil one.