Записки Безымянного
Man Of Many Names
I don't know why I feel I am
Once lived through all of this - and then
I have forgotten who I was,
Who were my friends, who were my foes,
How I was called, and how I died …
This feeling does constantly bite,
But still my memory is mist …
It's like I start with empty list.
And yet some sparks of former life
Feel very old the time I dive
Into reflection of myself -
And this makes squeeze my soul nerve.
I feel I once had many names …
Are these but dreams, just madness games?
I might have gone completely mad,
But these feelings long have bred.
I worn them all, they were like clothes
For man with many names I was
And many faces I once had …
I am, no doubt, truly mad.
How one can live the endless life
And pass through death … and still survive?
And still in times remember that
Another own name he had?
They are all mine, I once were them,
All these persons in the pram,
Like were-man I always shift …
Is it a curse, is it a gift?
Is there is one beyond them all
That is my only truly goal,
The one, who never had the name,
The Nameless One … are we the same?
I will remember once them all
For this is only worthy goal …
The time will come, I'll pass through flames
To be the Man Of Many Names.
04.05.2008
