Vadim Mark-Georg. Prikosnoven'ya istinnogo smysla --------------------------------------------------------------- Minsk. 2000 g. Izdatel'stvo "Sapozhkov" E-mail: markgeor@anitex.by WWW: http://www.anitex.by/home/markgeor/ ˇ http://www.anitex.by/home/markgeor/ --------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------- Minsk. 2000 g. Izdatel'stvo "Sapozhkov" E-mail: markgeor@anitex.by WWW: http://www.anitex.by/home/markgeor/ --------------------------------------------------------------- V knige 20 risunkov)

Nachalo Filosofii -- eto poisk istiny,
nachalom pozzii -- poisk Ee yazyka.

Vadim Mark-Georg

 

KRATKAYA ANNOTACIYA

V etoj nebol'shoj, vozmozhno otnosyashejsya
k zhanru ezotericheskoj literatury, knige sovremennogo
avtora v poeticheskoj forme predstavlena raznoobraznaya
gamma otnoshenij v aspekte dvojstvennosti
chelovecheskogo bytiya: duhovno-kosmicheskogo
i material'no-zemnogo.

Ee vnutrennij osnovnoj motiv priobshchaet
chitatelya k glubochajshej misterii postizheniya
svoej istinnoj sushchnosti, svoego Vysshego YA,
ot lica kotorogo postroeno povestvovanie v knige.

 

 

 

K chitatelyu

Tvorchestvo ZHizni pronizyvaet vse. Ono pobuzhdaet atomy vrashchat'sya, cvetok -- raskryvat'sya navstrechu solncu, cheloveka -- derznovenno zavoevyvat' prostranstvo i sozidat' novuyu Duhovnuyu Real'nost'.
Ot nachala vremen poet byl zhivoj svyaz'yu mezhdu Nebom i Zemlej, v napryazhennoj vibracii zvuchashchego slova zapechatlevaya pamyat' o mirovom podvige, a filosof-lyubomudr protyagival nit' ponimaniya miroustroeniya ot proshlogo k budushchemu.
Poeticheskaya Filosofiya, sochetaya plastichnost' formy i kosmizm soderzhaniya, ob®edinila dve perekladiny Kresta, prodolzhiv ih v Beskonechnost'.

V centre mirozdaniya nahoditsya CHelovek, osoznavshij Sebya, -- tak uchili i k etomu gotovili cheredoj surovyh ispytanij nemnogih otvazhnyh iskatelej Istiny vse velikie Misterii drevnosti. Nyne vse chelovechestvo prohodit ispytanie samoj ZHizn'yu, i ot stepeni ego gotovnosti k Posvyashcheniyu zavisit sushchestvovanie nashej planety.

Vneshne Misteriya mozhet prohodit' po-raznomu v raznye epohi,no stupeni ee ostayutsya neizmennymi: stavshij na Put' dolzhen napryach' vse sily, chtoby yasno razlichit' i reshitel'no razdelit' v sebe svet i ten', vechnoe i vremennoe, prekrasnoe i iskazhennoe, a zatem, pobediv, ispolnit'sya vnutrennim Svetom i vvesti v Ego siyanie svoyu esovershennuyu chast', ibo Garmoniya mira rozhdaetsya togda, kogda "dvoe stanovyatsya Odnim".

Dlya "vstupayushchego v potok" eti luchashchiesya tvorcheskoj mysl'yu formuly Poeticheskoj Filosofii mogut posluzhit' vazhnymi orientirami, preduprezhdaya o podvodnyh kamnyah i skrytyh melyah i ukazuya sredi bolotistyh nizin i mnogih razvetvlenij edinstvenno vernoe napravlenie, vedushchee k sliyaniyu s Velikim Okeanom Bytiya.

Garmonicheskie vibracii "Prikosnovenij istinnogo smysla" probuzhdayut v glubinah otozvavshegosya duha svoyu individual'nuyu melodiyu -- kak chast' obshchego horala Vysshih Sfer.

Vklyuchennye v knigu v kachestve prilozheniya stihi-zhemchuzhiny iz bol'shogo cikla avtora "Stroficheskoe ozherel'e", sverkayushchie raznymi granyami vzaimodejstviya cheloveka i prirody, nanizany, kak na nit', na ideyu cel'nosti i beskonechnosti ZHizni.

CHistyj istochnik Poeticheskoj Filosofii mozhet utolit' zhazhdu mnogih ishchushchih Sveta serdec i posluzhit' dostizheniyu imi istinnogo sovershenstva.

 

© 1999-2003 Copyright Vadim Markov
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Velikaya kniga osvobozhdeniya daetsya tomu,
kto mozhet prochest', usvoit' i ponyat'
istinnuyu prirodu svoego bytiya
 

Tvoe istinnoe YA -- est' iskra
ot ognya Samogo Boga, i Bog,
kotoryj vsemogushch i vsevedushch,
prebyvaet v tebe.

Iz Sokrovennoj Mudrosti Vostoka
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

           Lish' tol'ko v serdce tvoem,
   kak mladenec,
                  rozhdaetsya chistaya Istina,
ust tvoih molchalivyh nezametno kasaetsya
               Moj bezzvuchnyj Glagol.
 
 
 

                        Golubaya odna,
           YA -- zhemchuzhina cennaya
                                           v tvoej glubine,
ty -- hranitel' Moj v neumolkayushchem,
               burnom volnenii zhizni.
 
 
 

                              Ryadom
      esli do tebya donositsya
                                       neozhidannyj grom,
znachit, mimo v tishine uzhe proneslas'
                         Moya Molniya.
 
 
 

                              Pomni,
ot zemli do neba --
                      odin tol'ko kryl'yami vzmah,
       i ot tebya do Menya -- dushi
                  lish' odno dvizhenie!
 
 
 

             Na lyubovno vozdelannoj,
tebya kormyashchej zemle
             zhit' hochesh' ty zhizn'yu hozyaina. --
   Po prirode netlennoj Svoej,
                                YA po pravu yavlyayus'
           Vladykoyu podlinnym zhizni.
 
 
 

                        Siloyu mysli
        cherez tebya YA shozhu
                                do mel'chajshego atoma,
eyu zhe cherez Menya ty voznosish'sya
                k bezgranichnomu Bytiyu.
 
 
 

                     Zemnymi naukami
razdvigaesh' uporno ty
                                  tesnyj svoj gorizont,
   Naukoj Nebesnoyu ispodvol'
             YA rasshiryayu tvoe soznanie.
 
 
 

                              Znaj,
bud' ty remeslennik, pahar',
                                  otvazhnyj voitel'... --
      i v trudah, i v srazheniyah --
              YA tvoj Pomoshchnik vo vsem!
 
 
 

                          Kazhdyj raz
v svetlyh pomyslah vmeste so Mnoyu
                      tebe nochi t'ma nezametna,
     kazhdyj raz bez Menya --
                            i s poludennym solncem,
        kak v gluhom podzemel'e, temno!
 
 
 

                    Esli, obrazno, ty --
     poverhnost' beskrajnego morya,
                                       YA -- ego glubina;
esli ty -- podnozh'e i sklony vysokoj gory,
                 YA -- tvoya zhe vershina...
 
 
 

               Gde-to, vdali ot druzej,
       kogda ty tomish'sya
                                 v nevol'noj razluke, --
sposoben tebya razluchit' YA odin
             s tvoej neotstupnoj toskoj.
 
 
 

             Iz vsego, chto imeetsya zdes'
  na mchashchejsya vihrem Zemle, u tebya --
                                neizmenno lish' imya.
YA zhe otveku menyayu privychno,
                                      kak derevo -- list'ya,
              tol'ko zemnye Svoi imena.
 
 
 

                    Goryacho, neustanno
       tut i tam
                ty lyudej prizyvaesh' k dobru --
YA, bezmolvnyj, nezrimyj,
                 vsechasno dobro rassylayu
                                                   po miru.
 
 
 

        Kak tot veter, chto nositsya vsyudu,
   legko ochen'
        druzhbu zavodish' ty s etim i s etim...
No lish' s temi, kto sami zhelayut
            doveritel'noj druzhby so Mnoj,
                      doveritelen YA.
 
 
 

                   Na zhitejskoj trope
       ot nezrimyh i yavnyh vragov
                      tebe YA lish' -- Zashchita,
i neredko na nej zhe ,kak to ni priskorbno,
         vrag edinstvennyj Moj --
                                             eto ty!
 
 
 

                        Sam rassudi,
budet li proshche v tyazhelyh nevzgodah tebe
            Moyu Pomoshch' prinyat' cherez bol',
  chem privetlivo vstretit'
    Moj blagostnyj, vseohranyayushchij Dar
                 v poru blagopoluchiya?
 
 
 

                V zhazhde chistoj lyubvi,
kogda ves' ty slivaesh'sya
                          s kaplej schast'ya Moej, --
     tot zhe chas v tebya prolivaetsya s shumom
                  more edinoe ZHizni!
 
 
 

                     Esli revnostno
    sam, bez Menya, ty beresh'sya
                                         za trudnoe delo, --
vskore stanet ono, kak zaklyataya nosha,
                    tyazhelee vdvojne.
 
 
 

                 Kak vo sne zabyvayas',
kogda sladko grezish' ty
                        o nesbytochnom schast'e, --
  YA vozvrashchayu mechty tvoi snova --
                                       vo ispolnen'e ih --
                     v dlyashchijsya den'.
 
 
 

                         S nadezhdoj
               ustremlyaya vzor na dorogu,
   stol'ko let podzhidaesh' ty
                                           blizkogo serdcu,
hot' davno uzhe v serdce tvoem
                                vse YA zhdu
   odnogo tvoego blagosklonnogo vzglyada.
 
 
 

             Broshennoj shchepkoyu legkoj,
stremitel'no
          ty nesesh'sya v revushchem potoke --
    s tverdogo berega
                              YA nablyudayu za volnami
                  protekayushchej zhizni.
 
 
 

                   Odinokij i slabyj,
   tvoj golos teryaetsya
                            v raznogolosice bytiya,
            Golos zhe Moj
    vmeste s angel'skim horom zvuchit
             v tishine tvoego molchaniya...
 
 
 

                          Nevznachaj
       esli, sbivshis' s puti svoego,
           ty zabludish'sya v sumrachnoj chashche,
to nemedlya YA stanu tvoeyu
         po verhu svobodno idushchej
                                               Dorogoj.
 
 
 

                          Mezhdu tem,
poka stranstvuesh' ty bez dorog
                              po zelenoj planete,
        ostayus' nerazluchen YA vsyudu s toboj,
                     slovno sinee nebo.
 
 
 

                 Sosredotochiv mysl',
razmyshlyaesh' uporno
   ty nad slozhnym ustrojstvom Vselennoj;
      no lish' YA, tajnyj vedaya kod,
            bez truda rasshifrovyvayu
                                              Ee Zakony.
 
 
 

                          Tak vsegda:
    cht? v mechtan'e tvoem,
                  slovno zybkij, dalekij mirazh,
           smutno lish' voznikaet,
t? uzhe v Sozercanii nekolebimom Moem
         vo vseh chertah predstaet
                                              nayavu...
 
 
 

              Ot ucheniya snova i snova
    ty zhazhdesh' teoreticheskih znanij --
YA edinstvenno del
                    beskorystnyh i dobryh tvoih
                       zhdu eshche i eshche.
 
 
 

                 I segodnya, i zavtra uzh
esli vo Mne -- vse tvoi ustremleniya,
            to oplot chelovecheskij
                                            obretaet v tebe
                    Moya vechnaya ZHizn'!
 
 
 

                        Sredi yastv
      na obil'nom stole tvoem
                            YA -- tol'ko malaya kroshka;
zaklyuchennyj, odnako, vo chreve tvoem --
           vnutrenne celostnyj mir!
 
 
 

             Na vysokom zelenom holme
     iz pochteniya
ty vozvodish' Mne kamennyj hram,
        hotya YA vybirayu Sebe sovershennoe --
                  chelovecheskoe zhilishche.
 
 
 

                               Uzri,
skol'ko bol'she odna Moya vechnaya Pravda
                                     v tvoej glubine,
     chem tvoya neischislimaya melkaya lozh'
                na Moej Poverhnosti!
 
 
 

                 Odnazhdy prozrev,
  esli ty samomnen'e ob®yavish'
                         svoim naihudshim vragom, --
s radost'yu YA, slysha eto, tebya nazovu
       Svoim iskrennim,
                             predannym drugom.
 
 
 

               Pust' do poslednego dnya
YA -- edinstvennyj gost'
                       v tvoem vremennom dome,
no pod vechnyj Moj Krov,
                               kak na prazdnichnyj pir,
                   soberutsya vse sushchie.
 
 
 

                           Vsyakij raz,
kogda plachesh' ukradkoyu ty,
                           YA tebya uteshayu v pechali --
  i, nenuzhnyj, ostavlennyj,
                                          gor'ko skorblyu,
         kogda ty bez Menya veselish'sya.
 
 
 

                    Imeyushchij volyu i um,
na zemle ty --
                  sud'by svoej polnyj hozyain;
   vse zhe, znaj: isklyuchitel'no vnutrennej
                            zhizni tvoej
                  tvorec podlinnyj -- YA.
 
 
 

                To azartno, to yarostno
  zashchishchaesh' svoi ty naivnye istiny
                               v spore.
Dazhe pered vragami
             byvayu spokoen, uveren v Sebe YA --
                      kto Istina Sam!
 
 
 

                       V dol'nem puti
      sobiraesh' ty berezhno
                         opyta zolotye krupicy --
gornim plamenem pereplavlyayu ih YA
        v Mudrosti dragocennye slitki!
 
 
 

                       Ne pravda li,
doveryaya sebe odnomu,
             ty vsegda somnevaesh'sya v prochih?
  No doverivshis' Mne bezuslovno,
           dlya dvizhen'ya oporu obretesh' ty
                            vo vsem.
 
 
 

                            Segodnya
     vse do poslednego
           lish' podchini svoi pomysly Mne --
i YA stanu tvoim zavershayushchim,
                        glavnym Zavoevaniem!
 
 

                           Pri nuzhde
materialy razlichnye u zemli
                    ty beresh' dlya stroitel'stva.
  YA -- tvorec, sozidayushchij vse
                            iz substancii tonkoj
                       Edinogo Duha.
 
 
 

                   Vybrav yasnuyu cel',
esli ty Moj krylatyj Ogon'
                     izberesh' k tomu sredstvom, --
  zagoryas' ustremleniem obshchim,
                                         vmeste my
             nepremenno dostignem ee...
 
 
 

                           Posmotri:
na poverhnosti ty --
     lish' odna volna v chelovecheskom more.
YA -- velikoj ego glubiny
                  zhivotvornyj i neistoshchimyj
                             Rodnik!
 
 
 

            Vse zhe, slovno bystraya rtut',
  luchshe podvizhnost' Moya
                                na tvoem v zhizni meste,
chem kak opustoshennaya chasha na pire,
           nepodvizhnost' tvoya -- na Moem.
 
 
 

               Po neveden'yu ty inogda
       pustuyu illyuziyu
                            prinimaesh' za schast'e.
   Potomu ot nee izbavlenie polnoe
             nazyvayu YA schast'em tvoim.
 
 
 

                  V okruzhen'e veshchej,
    vsyakij raz, kak ty tol'ko podumaesh':
                                  "YA eto hochu", --
    otvechayu YA shepotom: "Nado li?
        ved' u tebya, v sushchnosti,
                                       vse uzhe est'".
 
 
 

                  Ochen' dolgo poroj,
kak userdnyj sadovnik,
         v dushe svoej ty rastish' sad obid. --
   Za mgnoven'e odno,
                               kak polunochnyj vor,
           YA ego privozhu v zapustenie.
 
 
 

                           V nebesah
                 tvoe znojnoe solnce
      medlenno hodit po krugu nochi i dnya.
V nih Moe, blagodatnoe, neugasimo siyaet --
                   vsegda na Rassvete!
 
 
 

               Zazhigatel'no, strastno
    s besposhchadnym vragom
                 prizyvaesh' srazit'sya ty vseh.
  No na pole nevidimoj Brani Moej
            YA srazhayus' --
                        edinstvennyj Voin.
 
 
 

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