Transitions №5

Author: Tatiana Vinogradova

The Lone RadioAstron Saga

The Lone RadioAstron
moves in his high orbit.
Almost nobody is waiting for him on the Earth,
less than nobody remembers.
His lifespan is five years only.
But what is the meaning of life? Who cares…

The Lone RadioAstron
tries to look beyond the edge
of the accretion disk,
it (he) tries in the very last moment
to contemplate Singularity.               
In vain.
Even if he sees something,
nobody will understand what it is,
except The Academician Almighty.

The Lone RadioAstron
strains every nerve (and antenna),
dodging, making his way by shifts.
He is all ears, listening to the Universum.
The Universum keeps mum (??).

The Lone RadioAstron
gathers his last strength,
tries to speak English with Hubble.
But their orbits are too different.
Besides, His Majesty The Hubble is not very young
and has a strong American accent. 
And to tell the truth, this is the dialog
between a blind person and a deaf person. Alas.
…And The Universum still keeps silent,
indulgently.

The Lone RadioAstron
is looking into the muzzles of quasars and masers
and all other pulsars.
But he is frightened of poking into a wormhole,
cause it’s so unpredictable:
it can engulf you, entice you, involve you
into some parallel universe, Multiverse…
And you will find yourself to be some Nostradiar
or even worse: to be a Dewar flask,
or simply –  a whisky bottle of Dewar’s.
 
Around The Lone RadioAstron
The Leonids and The Perseids of all kinds
are whispering some fun to each other,
while the Moon, dancing salsa,
provokes perturbations in his orbital elements.
But the space radiotelescope
tries to keep himself under control.

With none of his antenna petals trembling,
The Lone RadioAstron
soars with perfect calm,
waiting for the Final Answer,
listening to the soundless rustle of space junk
and tinkling of broken stars.

Well, you know, he will hear the Answer at last.
Because The Lonesome Universum
also needs to talk to somebody
sometimes.

The RadioAstron project is led by the Astro Space Center of the Lebedev Physical Institute of the Russian Academy of Sciences and the Lavochkin Scientific and Production Association under a contract with the State Space Corporation ROSCOSMOS, in collaboration with partner organizations in Russia and other countries.

https://www.roscosmos.ru/26412/

SONG OF FALL FOLIAGE
Ode to the Green Bank Observatory

Green Bank Observatory is lost in the heart of the Appalachians
in the heart of silence and woodlands,
in the heart of autumn,
amidst of Undisclosed Eternity
where Miracle and Mystery are born
again and again and again.

Scarlet torches of maples faded away.
Waving hillsides and vales are waiting for winter lace.
In autumn, the essence of being uncovers itself.
Rational grid of branches
reveals through chaos of flying fall foliage,
splendid, perishable foliage, rustling about fundamentals.

The trees of radio telescopes are also naked.
They present the skeleton of existence:
but yet intersecting steel boughs are trying tо reach for the sky,
while reflectors – the crowns of telescope-trees
are flickering, full of blazing star foliage –
splendid, perishable foliage, rustling about fundamentals.

So many of them growing in Green Bank,
those tall and small autumn trees of the Universe,
beautiful, man-made, sophisticated, –
from the apple tree of Jansky Antenna to sequoia of GBT.

But what is the most important thing in the observatory? Рeople!
They try to decode milky whisper of galaxies.
Here, in the heart of autumn,
in the heart of ancient Indian mountains
these wonderful people work day and night
trying to cognize Miracle and Mystery
again and again and again.

Little Princess

«Little Princess why are you sad?»
«Because my crown is too big for me.»
 «Little princess, why is your crown old and dented, and covered with rust?»
«Because discord broke out in my kingdom, neither money, nor craftsmen do I have.»
«Little Princess, why did you have to wear the crown?»
«Because my parents have perished.»
«Little princess, why did the King and the Queen perish?»
«Because the first minister has no mercy, and he has assassins.»
«Little Princess, why did not you order his execution?»
«Because I merely wear the crown. I do not rule my kingdom. The first minister does.»
 «Little Princess, why do your lips never smile?»
«Because my loved one left me.»
«Little Princess, why did your loved one leave you?»
«Because I myself chased him away. He is in a strange land now, but he is alive.»
«Little Princess, why is grey fog all around you?»
 «Because the sky weeps with a cold rain over my country. 
Because hypocrisy, lie and enmity surround me.
Because there is no blessing from God to me and my country.”
“Little Princess, why your eyes look like two black holes into nothingness?”
“Because I am dead.”

‘En liten prinsesse’ by Marianne Sandstø