On the other side are Cupid s arrows

Foresight is a lie,
Where there are multiple options, it's impossible to see anything,
Especially the end of the world...
I always laugh when someone talks about the apocalypse,
The apocalypse won't come until Cupid runs out of arrows,
And he has more than enough arrows...
How should I know? Well, I'll explain, anyway...
"There" above—just like "below"—everyone is engaged in creativity.
Life is eternal creativity.
Stand for a moment, and the wind, seeking those who do not seek,
will find you and cover you in dust.
Like a stone thrown into a field of no action.
Well, no one wants to be abandoned!
(He who knows knows, and he who doesn't, God forbid, never finds out!)
And creativity is a delicate matter. "There," where Aesir are all around, it's not easy to stay in shape or endure.
And for those who couldn't handle it—"they," like "us," have "dirty jobs,"
Or, as I might say, work that's "underhanded" (pardon the expression).
...I couldn't handle it—and I had to do something that was "underhanded."
What kind of work? Making arrows for Cupid! (It's supposedly smuggling.)
"There," where the "values" are completely different—supplying energy for the wheel of samsara.
This is one of the jobs considered "underhanded"...
Well, that's another story.
I remember what a large shipment of arrows was given to Cupid.
That was the last time (for me)—when I was detained "at the border."
I later learned that my partner had betrayed me, like a scapegoat. "Long-bearded saint" was my partner's nickname,
or maybe it was the nickname of the clan that "belongs to them."
This clan has a complicated game—some frighten people with the apocalypse, while others provide Cupid with arrows!
Now I understand where this apathy comes from—when the long-bearded saints appear.
Nothing personal—it's just a phobia of mine...

P.S. The style was chosen deliberately—to confuse the calculating mind, so it can't figure out what's going on.

Iltifat Heydarov
07/09/2015