Fragment of a poem: Leda and Zeus / Poem by Elena Ananyeva

 

256059357_306775931084349_5330564777918879220_n

Poem by Elena Ananyeva

 

Leda and Zeus
Fragment of a poem

We are sailing into Antiquity… Let’s turn back time.
The circle of life twisting through the centuries.
The starry sail glides. Inviting us to move with it.
In youthful Antiquity, in fragments of foundations. Childhood of the world, a naive time?!
Along the roads of stories, from the temples of the gods, we carry the burden of reflection.
“There are legendary encounters…
in the life of each: gods and heroes.
Some suffer terribly,
Others splash with happiness.,,
…In the wine-soaked river.
The myrtles are reflected in blossom.
The families of snowy swans
Refresh all mortals with their omen.
Early in the morning in the river Evroth.
The white swan Leda swims in the river Evroth.
The king’s guards on the banks
will not allow any hostility against her.
– Why am I alone in Sparta?
Where is my husband, in what war?
The swans swim on the water,
to drive the strangers away.
I would go back to my father’s home,
But there’s no home there anymore.
I want to be a faithful wife,
I want to give the power of my word to the gods.
Suddenly, the leader of the swans separated,
and swam to her as if Zeus had appeared.
The Muses were not far away,
as if they had taken Leda in a ring.
Early in the morning in the waters of the lagoon
Leda in a merry splash.
The royal retinue of sunny Sparta
guarding her, admiring her.
The drapery of her wet tunic
opens up her body,
Like feathers of gleaming hair,
reflecting in the water ineptly,
and she made a date with the gods here.
Her clear voice went straight into the sky,
and it echoes to the heavens.
With mirages of colored smiles
On the soft sand, waking up.
The voice of light flew upward again,
and in the towers of the dome, the bells were ringing,
and blessing the living with love,
and longing for the glorious days of the past.
– Phoenicia, my dear Phoenicia,
By the sea you shine like a toy.
I dream of the country I love,
I remember it in my songs.
I flew away as a bluebird
And I can’t come back?
The Mediterranean waves are splashing
The turquoise bows flutter
There’s so much sunshine in Phoenicia,
From Egypt and Greece
stretched strings in the windows,
and nostalgia moves the heart.
Across the sea, the seas are different,
by the Black Sea – Ukraine is there.
Only Leda didn’t know about it –
It’s only the Childhood of the World.
There was no America
and 11th of SEPTEMBER,
the earth hadn’t exploded
and the earth was not falling from the sky.
No fires of the Inquisition were burning.
There was no Holocaust,
Before the gulags, Babi Yar and
The War of the Dragon,
that threw spears at Ukraine,
centuries-old burial grounds

From ancient times:
who is who, who is who,
but why should power be easy to handle?!
Gods and heroes and countries struggle,
religious programs mature,
parties, foundations, companies, groups.
In a world of innocents scattered corpses.
Where is justice,
Where is God’s mercy,
Of all the trials the road has not dreamed.
Tindareus, after the battle.
To the Oracle he went,
To ask how his Leda was,
What did he find in the sentiment…
In the incense a new bond was found,
as if the serpents were entwined
with the white swan.
The serpents choke the slender neck of him,
he cackles and screams
and flies high.
And from there among the feathers
down into the clouds,
and falls into the mountains…
and falls into a fiery hole in the mountains.
The oracle says:
– “Zeus came to Leda,
He stole her soul,
He found passion with her.”
Tindareus tossed the waves with a mighty squall:
– It must not be so, it will be a fire.
I will return to the temple of Zeus,
Though it’s not easy for me, I’ll get my Leda back,
I’ll bring back my Leda, I don’t care who is who.
I will bring you down from the clouds and the heavens!
Zeus the treacherous,
The power in thee
the demon in thee!
You will say farewell,
You will leave your heights.
You will know oblivion,
Punishment, no matter how wise you may be.
You burst into the lives of humans,
You play with love.
I will fight you,
I’m coming for you.
Tindareus went to Zeus,
calling to the new gods:
– “I will give my woman to no one!
I won’t give her up, I won’t give her up,
Not to gods, not to enemies.
And I’ll never give her up

Leda sang as if her body
dipped into the depths of a ciphara.
The warmth of the wood rang,
and the earth was steaming.
– Lord of all Sparta, consort,
I carry my song like a harness.
You have left me, going on a campaign,
I only paint a picture of good fortune.
I pray for your victory,
I’ll give you all my caresses,
my great bed is empty,
no legend or fairy tale can replace it.
The white lilies open their petals in the water,
They glisten with their nakedness in the storm,
and in the rhythm of love’s hymn…
and the blossoms of passion quiver.

For ever and ever they have been,
In every century the law has been broken,
to live, to do good, as if in paradise,
not everyone needs the law of life.
Terrorism, vandalism
From ancient times
allowed by gods and heroes,
no beauty,
the power of courageous love
have not, sadly, saved the world with themselves.
The power of beasts tame all,
The weak lead the crowd of the weak.
Who is who, who is who – forever in the world sounds,
inviting the living to battle.

Beauty, the defenseless beauty, is a threat to the world,
The Minotaur’s eyes are on her.

Beauty, defenseless against the world, against the threat
The Minotaur is reaching for it with fondness.
He wants to seize it all, swallow it, shred it,
and high feelings wither in their mazes of labyrinths.
Where are you, heroes, worthy of ancient tales?
Hey, call out, High Priests’ warlords.
It’s time for a date with beauty today.
Bring clean water from the well on your way!
Zeus sings: “Everything is here for you,
You’re so sweet to me, Leda, my song,
I’ll give you my deity,
It’s time to have fun.
Early in the morning I woke you up,
I am burning with fire in the late night.
How much I desire you, come!
But you do not hear my dreams!”.
A swan’s fidelity is a swan’s honor.
The silhouette of a thin neck proud,
The waves are quietly swaying the tidings
Of love as the wind is free.
The birth of wings is a sacred moment:
A sonnet of melody, harmony, tact, –
“and the precious melody and tune ring out
bright as a rainbow radiating tomorrow.
He who hath not known how wings are born is weak,
Who never knew the excitement of the senses,
Who could not surpass himself, is cold,
He that hath not found the source: let him
cast a glance, a gaze
Let him cast a glance into himself, into the depths of his soul,
“There the stones are burnt with treasure,
to gather in the rising road.
Even God persuaded her,
and not a hair of her head was harmed,
and her efforts were not wasted,
And a new time was beginning.
She caressed him till the dawn.
She stroked him until dawn,
He whispered words in her ear,
He whispered words in her ear.
With a flock of swans in the distance
And the dance of passion continues in love,
The power of unity and unity,
The beginning of all living beginnings.
The song of Zeus rolled down the mountain.
Their stones have fallen from their souls,
so the road to the temple is hard
To find a ford through the rivers of the ages.

And the Mother of Summer sings:
– My son will save our land!
With him I’ll send out the rays of love.
Seven hundred thousand beautiful notes.
Seven hundred wanderers, beautiful thoughts!
He’ll conquer the storms
He’ll tame the storms.
No stranger’s midnight watch
Will not go farther into our land of the elements.
Son, come quickly, they’re waiting for you!
You see, the boys are already dying in foreign lands.
The dark, draconian forces are brainwashing the people,
Leading them against each other. Make peace with them! Bring them back.
We will share power with you people.
Beauty, harmony, peace
calls on them to serve!
We will share with you, humans, the power.
There’s a God in everyone, and a concern of our own.
We defend the earth now.
We choose the road to beauty and peace!

… In this knot once again intertwined
Hundreds of rays cutting through the ice
Hundreds of melodies that make hymns,
Hundreds of ancient threads of crimson.
In this dawn path of superstripes
A dozen spokes of axes are twisted.
Here emptiness is filled with meaning,
Here extraterrestrial love is reflected in thoughts…
Before the birth of Christ,
and through the ages
Men look up to heaven
waiting for a blessing!

@Elena Ananieva – Germany

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s