Sunday, January 19, 2014


By Pavel Chichikov

When you run with the wolves
You must howl with the wolves
Or they will know you are not one of them

And when they know you are not a wolf
They will fix their yellow eyes on you
And bare their yellow fangs

When you hunt with the wolves
You must eat what they eat
And be pitiless as they are pitiless

You must disown your human form
And your human heart
And your human spirit

They will give you instead
The heart of a wolf
And the soul of a wolf

When you run with the wolves
You will die as a wolf
And they will howl twice and go on

Your carcass will lie on the ground
And the dogs will tear it
As once they ripped at Jezebel

Or be a lamb instead
The one Christ ate at the Last Supper
With a dish of bitter herbs

The lamb He ate with unleavened bread
That became His flesh
Washed down with blood 

By Pavel Chichikov

My Lord, why do You take Your time?
The peace of these old hills
Is like the prospect of the peaceful Kingdom

You wear them out by rain and frost
And my old life by now
Would not so much of precious rainfall cost

My child, how can immortal souls compare
These ridges with the light I give
Which is alive, opposing and aware?

Hills of granite rise and fall supine
Graze on rain
They are the chattels I call Mine

For you, My child, the task I set
Has been a deeper metaphor
Love’s inevitable failure, therefore your regret

But you are My aroused topography
And ages are to come
When you will walk with Me

We will follow riverbeds and streams
Climb the sleeping hills 
Behold this world I made of waking dreams

The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov

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