Na son gryadushij

Not loneliness, but unity with nature.
And a tambourine, yellow as the moon, calls the spirits from the fire,
So that in the morning there will be harmony and complete agreement in yarangas.
All evil spirits are banished until they are fed with words.
And therefore, to bad words for the coming dream -
The snows are falling, hiding with white what can stain.
Fire and stars are reflected in the eyes of deer.
Under a quiet voice, a sound beats with the pulse of a tambourine.
The shaman hasn't let go of him since the world went mad.
While the winter is harsh and frosty, the living basks in unity.
The heat melts away dirt.
My friend, feel the connection and look around.
The easier it is to live, the closer evil spirits are to the heart.
They torment the soul, sowing discord among those
Who is dear, close, needed and loved.
When their shaman calls in winter to howl with the wind, to drive stingy clouds,
Kindness lives in yarangas, however ...
As the entrance from the east should always be -
So the shaman sings like birds, animals, and water...

Canvas. Oil. 90x140
November 2022