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Redeemed world!

The Biggest Doubter of goodly mankind died

On freest Sunday[74 - As you may know, in Roman Catholic Calendar, the date of death of St Thomas the Apostle, Thomas «the doubting», as he also used to be called in history, before 1969, was thought to be exactly on 21st of December. In that line, where I’ve been saying «on Sunday», firstly, I kept my eye on that coincidential truth, that the both days – of the Keats’ Letter and The Negative Capability Day 2014 – the Sundays. The rest of supposive guessing here could be of that, if St Thomas himself died, too, on Sunday, however this sort of exact truth for me is still unknown.

Who came up’n new time to shake Great Negus[75 - The original Latin root of the words the «negative», «negativism»; to those, who wonder, how really objective I am in using as such a great meaning in the tight context of the poem, I should answer by addressing their quests to the last lines of the Keats’ Letter, and so, by reminding them of the very pointed there the «about-Shelley’s»; – with that, you can find your own way to analize the pre-motivation of me-written line of «hand-shake».

Soothing no sword, if not in name of th’Unforeseen

All-Love? Unreasonable, called by Air so, Love,

That goes through the bounds of a Life-denial…

Mind, no ugly Trial on this day will be. —

How Mystery of Fate and Time takes Dream Exiled

Back to Light? not samely, as the Beauty ends old history?[76 - In fact, there is the second variant of this line: «…not samely, as the Beauty starts new history?» (…its newer history?); – so, let the readers be more enthusiastically creative, in cooperating their own vision with mine, in thinking that, how, and which way, towards the history, the Beauty universally improves itself.

    (18.12.2014 – 21/22.12.2014;

    Moscow dacha by S. Posad)

The Truth of Shelley’s Ghost

/To Lynn Shepherd,

An author of «Treacherous Likeness»,

A book me-read in feeling of irrational, unexplanable regret/

A Shade – there’s the dark echoing: —

«Of a noblest kind!» – slides in,

All silent, pre-materialized.

There can be seen no eyes

Of maid surprised, no scene

Of fatal cries. A monster

Felt from high-poetic stars,

He swam across the sea of Death,

And, after seven lives of storm,

His ugly look how eloquent!

Much peaceful though.