Inland Empire of Peace

by Ludmila Pogodina

Eine Insel in the cell of a cityA city of 4 million souls
I come across the ruins of a fake church in a fake paradise
What do the souls do in a fake paradise -
Go clubbing or seek salvation from it?
My wonderlust soul spent years
Searching for an island or an inland empire of peace
Through internal and external migration
Through Belarusian swamps and forests
Flying over Italian mountains and German hidden stories
Flying over the ruins of empires
Searching for a safe haven
Like this island
Maybe
Maybe not

Nothing is what it seems on the island of birds
I know, for a fact, that a black hen is a portal to another dimension
У каралеўства з каралем, пра якога нельга нікому казаць
Бо кароль голы
Бо калі пра гэта даведаюцца
Падземнае каралеўства знікне
Як знікаюць няемкія гісторыі
З падручнікаў
Са старонак Вікіпедыі
З кніжных паліц
З калектыўнай памяці
Як знікае ўсе тое, пра што нельга казаць
Услых
Можна толькі ціха, на кухне
Але калі пачуюць
Атрымаеш пад дых
Але я не з тых
Хто заўседы маўчыць
Я з тых, хто час ад часу крычыць
Унутры
ці вось зараз, побач з вамі, у голас

I know, for a fact, that the black hen is a portal to another dimension
To an underground kingdom one mustn’t talk about (one must)
But then… a white peacock is a portal to what?
Far from home, there are no snakes to eat
but you’re still resistant to their poison
You - the symbol of “purification”
But what if the “purification of the nation” is poison
How do you resist that, white bird?

Nothing is what it seems in a fake paradise
Fake church, fake treasures, fake ruins
The only real thing is a surreal bird
The one that was here
When the alchemist made fake blood out of glass
How many souls were exchanged for that fake blood?
Far from home
Breeding peacocks and bleeding glass
We are obsessed with true crimes when it happen to others

Did you know that birds are more likely to sing when they feel safe?
And tend to keep quiet when threatened
Eine Insel in the cell of a city
A city of 4 million souls
I don’t have to have a religion to have a soul,
do I?

I spent years
Searching for an island or an inland empire of peace
I know, for a fact, that my inland empire of peace has no emperor
No empress
It, probably, has birds
Who sing cheerful songs
Because they feel safe and secure
There my soul will sing
Because it feels safe and secure
But for now
The only thing I hear from within
Is the shriek of a peacock
As a warning
That I’m not there yet

This text was written as part of the Weiter Schreiben intervention ‘Nothing is what it seems’ on 13 September 2025 on Peacock Island.

Zurück