agonia
english

v3
 

Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii Românesti - Romanian Poetry

poezii


 

Texts by the same author


Translations of this text
0

 Members comments


print e-mail
Views: 2781 .



The Dome
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [deajuly ]

2010-02-05  |     | 



“But what is more important, Notre Dame,
your monstrous ribs I studied from the start
and oft I thought: I too will make fine art
from sturdy heaviness through which I came.”

The Dome

A church. I began with the open doors and windows. They emitted semi-darkness and wind; they pushed me away and sucked me in at the same time, tearing my essence to pieces. My essence cursed, but the voice from the dome said: “Hush, hush…” My essence put on a black robe and gloves. The shutters closed with a bang. The dome watched me unwinking so pityingly and persistently that I could not endure its eye, and fell my own eye down on my toes. It was too hard for my feet, and I, the eye’s owner flung it away. In order not to see the treacherous-affectionate eyes of the dome, I looked at the flickering candle-flame. The flame was so hot that my eye covered with hoarfrost. In order not to put myself to the torture again, I gave myself to the sympathy which outpoured from above. I guess, the dome was too wise to fix its eye upon me alone, and now it watched somebody else. A red-haired woman. The woman responded so bravely that I felt like imitating her, and I attempted to bid defiance to the dome. The dome just smiled and yawned in reply. And the church seemed to be a big yawn. The church got bored with my timid achromatic actions, and its slight left me outside and without my robe. Finding myself in the snowy street, I shivered with cold and went to somewhere.

Once Written...

On the 19th of January, 2010, was Epiphany Day in our part of the world. And far in the day, at night, in my sleep, I saw my late relatives, therefore the next day, 20 January, I went to the church to order remembrance of the dead in prayer as it was an old custom of us, Orthodox Christians. I go to church seldom, as I said more than once in my blog, only when it’s time to care about my late relatives’ remembrance. In the church, after I did it and bought a candle, I went to the special altar, which was in the right corner of the church to place my candle there. One the top of the altar there were numerous candles, which the believers lit for their dead. I lit my candle among them, drew myself up and made a bow to the big crucifix. It took me perhaps ten seconds to do all this, and as I did this, something happened, namely: when I approached to the altar, the sunshine struck upon my face through the window, whose lover part was on my eyes’ level. It was sunny day, and I could see the sun in the window-pane, the whole disc of pale gold, which shone blinding eyes. When I made the bow, my head was in the shade for a moment--I drew myself up, and I could see the sun again. And at the moments, I got the idea of being standing in the position when I could see the sun and to say prayers to it. Standing still, I began watching the sun. I could watch the sun without winking like a cat--what wonder, the windowpane was covered with the mists of the season, however bright the sunshine was that day--but I blinked just in case, because this experience was unknown to me and I was afraid of any harm to my eyes. Meanwhile, the world around was transformed beyond recognition. The sun in my eyes transformed the wall, which supposedly was in front of me, into darkness that is I could not see the wall at all. Only the small tongues of flame were visible underneath and against the darkness, which was all remained from the altar that disappeared almost entirely. This sight was so interesting and so unusual for this usual familiar place, big church with light walls and big windows built in Chekhov’s times. I felt joy at heart doing my duty to my dear dead, and in addition, there was the unexpected play of light and shade, caused with the sun in my eyes, which looked supernatural, and which only I could see. I could be staying long in this way, worshiping to the sun and recalling my dear dead, but I was afraid of my hampering other believers at the altar therefore I had to change my position. I stepped aside, and on the instant, I could see again the wall with the big crucifix of wood and the rectangular altar with the smaller crucifix of bronze, because the sun was hidden to my eyes now, and the rest world began to exist again. I left the corner and went to the part of the church at the front door in order to buy a bottle of holly water. And then I went home.

Story of Sophie

The story was short and simple, like most of true stories, yet it was tantalizing for everyone, who participated.
I first saw this uncommonly beautiful kitty on 12 July, 2009. The fluffy apricot and white kitten, she was aged 2 months, as I was told, but it may not be true. Very soon, at my home, she proved to be ill. As we thought, the reason was that the kitten was taken off her mother’s breast too early. She seemed seriously ill. Her ears were not all right inside, and she had a kind of anorexia (with her stool and urination being normal). She was so thin and she got thinner and thinner before my eyes. We thought she would die any moment. Supposing the worst, I bemoaned her beforehand (it’s my morbid impressionability), I cursed the evil people, who took her off her mother too early in order to sell her (the people can be called “kitten dealers”, the poor, who earn money dealing with kittens, in our part f the world), in short, I got through horrible 10 days. Needless to say that my eyes were brought to tears dozens times. Getting over my hysterics (which was so taxing for me, after the latest tragedy in my life, two weeks back, when my first young kitty of the name of Myla was stolen), I nursed the kitten with hot-water bottles, washed her ears with antibiotics inside, but she refused eating, and we had to feed her by force with the aid of a medicine dropper. She resisted, and it looked horrible for us, who loved her. Thus several days passed. Now, it occurred to me, as a last resort, one remedy, of which I knew from my childhood, learning of it from my Orthodox Christian ancestors. I went to the nearest church and brought a bottle of holy water from there. At home, I carefully dropped the holy water on the motionless curled body of the kitten, who spent time half-sleeping between two hot-water bottles. The drop even did not reach her skin; it only touched her hair. I left the room. Presently, in other room, I heard the kitten’s loud mewing. I came in and saw her standing and looking at me. I hastened to take the medicine dropper and milk, and I fed her a little as usual. Then I took a small wad of cotton and some holy water, and I carefully washed the kitten’s eyes and face. Her state was the same that day; she still refused eating. The next day, the first thing I did was washing the kitten’s face with holy water. Warmed with the hot-water bottles, she looked dying no longer, and she rolled her eyes no longer, but she still refused eating. The next day, I washed her face with holy water again--and then there was the miracle, which must be mentioned here. Almost instantly, she began eating (!!) the food, which I gave. It was the special meat for kittens bought by me. Since that day, she ate like a healthy kitten. Preferring meat (Whiskas, Kittycat or other meat), she eats as though she never has been ill (!!) In all, her illness lasted for 10 days. At present, she is all right so much as if she never has been ill, and I seek to forget the days of her illness as a nightmare. At present, when she is aged 8 months, sometimes it seems to me that I have other cat, and that little ill kitten is no more, though I know that it is not so, in fact, the little ill kitten has grown up and got healthy. “God has made the cat to give man the pleasure of caressing the tiger,” they say. I say, “Gods have made the kitty to give me the pleasure of caressing the sun.” Golden, dear and beautiful, Sophie the Sun.
In conclusion, I have to say that holy water is an old traditional remedy amongst Orthodox Christian people. Especially, it helps to people, who suffer from nerves or recovering after an illness. Also it helps against evil eye. Holy water and your small christen cross (of silver or gold, which must be worn under clothes, next to one’s skin).


.  | index










 
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!