Painter, Designer

Dmitriy Yanovsky

By Nikolay Synkov

Translated by Yelena Synkova?

Myths and Legends: Creation of the world

Gallery of images: "Birth to the world from Chaos" A. Fantalov

Chaos?

At first it was,

Amorphic in its scale, the chaos..?

(Statue's crystal, marble, bronze)

Classical thought moved in the direction of those forms, which could be

(Cutter's calligraphy)

Attracted for the characterization of Chaos as principles of formation.

Started noticing,

(Creation from wise hands)

that Chaos contains some type of unity of contradictions: Chaos simply

(Destiny, foul weather of those spiritualized faces)

Revealing and unfolding everything, giving all the opportunity to emerge into the

outside, and at the same

(To give a grasp of other content, those who we see in icons - now)

Time, it absorbs all, all neutralized, all concealed inside. The image

of Chaos in the form

(But where can we look in, where is the human keyhole, with that world)

of the two-faced Janus, appearing as artistic, the beginning is had

in Ovid. Janus

(Who with that diamond cutter, beginning with the hammer's rap)

calls himself res prisca ("ancient thing")

(Starting to bore the depth of three created oceans)

and Chaos. When all elements dispensed to their own places and formed a slender

(Water, earth and cosmos)

cosmos, then Janus, who was before globus et sine imagine moles ("a

lumpy and faceless

(Behold the image of the holy Janus)

heap") received fixed faces ("image") and a dignified godly

appearance. But even now,

(Two-faced, gazing forward, backwards and in a moment smearing himself by his own wish)

he says, there is a remnant of his former state, particularly: ability

(Indistinctness of the image, and sagging bodies of those faceless masses)

to see all future and past . Despite that, Janus with his own hand opens

(Heaps and their amorphic bodies)

and closes all, presenting as if to be a worldly door. He can unfold

the world in all its

(Only the weight of fallen shells and acomplished affairs)

beauty can consign it to its own destruction.

(Ready everything and everyone toward annihilation, in a moment suffer a sea change)

Chaos unfolds and unfurls all, to all gives possibility to find the

outside, and at

(They are ready to create new stars)

the same time it absorbs everything, neutralize all, concealing all inside of

(Again a sea change, changing their face and give a confluence of

those human rivers)

the two-faces Janus

(Extinguish all for ever)?

("Ancient thing" - but the Orient is the East)

("the faceless heap mass of those giants")

("face" only the images of a worthy god)

(All only the remnants of abilities to see everything forward and backwards)

(Janus with his hand opens and closes all, the worldly door is under his power)?

( He can unfold the whole world in its beauty, in a

moment destroy it) ?

In the beginning it was formless,

(Thus a country forms in the world, a ruler, fame and his grandeur)

amorphic in its scale, the Chaos...

(But where are dimensions of the nations and who will mark them)

Chaos, Grk. c a o z, chaos, from the root, cha-, from this chaino,

chasco, "yawning"

(Labor for a conversation's start, oh how are we live there)

"opening";

(All comes to an incessant sonneteer with a concrete meaning of who you are, but I am not)

Based on this chaos means, before all, "- yawn"

(So we start developing and greed of the mouth, I want that and that)

"yawning"

(With years, those centuries gave possibility to transfer a step

perhaps a little forward, and for someone behind, during the sweet birth

of an infant, and to remain forever in that age)

"dehiscence"

(And an abyss formed in the world of nations, the movement and

development of some, while others left behind in an eternal lullaby)

"expanding space",

(And everything filled up, from birth to small steps upon eternity and

here the melody of olden love and their remains to the earth belong )

"empty stretch".

(You lived perhaps, wrote words of prayers and thought of

confluence those words with soul in eternity, but here grew quiet, the should left for

the heavens, partaking on destiny's psalms, as that insatiable war of

those three worlds, that which is left, ash dispersed throughout the

world, and those creations of the cutter, but there's no verse, no

condition of creator and conqueror who was written of , only left for

centuries on, the messenger bringing news of those other worlds, was

likewise slain, Shakespeare creator of his work, present us with the

standards, how faith, wisdom and love cannot be saved, and only kill

and buried in that very moment, but forever, and a drop of

metal blood? awash the hands and please forget)

So those first standards were created

They reached the walls of every capitol of power

And were accepted in the desire over the worldly peoples

In name, well carry on my portrait, like a photo?

Barracks started building through the world in name of the giant Janus

He is not to be embraced, not set to fire or forgotten

But that grandeur of god's face is gone

To steadily withstand him

He started to multiply in states across the planet,

But there is one post, the master of those mortals, the soul

is not enslaved forever

Through the world walking, rapping with that branch of wisdom

Which with centuries has soaked up the drought's dryness and the

wind from burnt down places

All wrinkled and dried up, a vision of an old man or woman clothed in rags

A knapsack, bad seeing eyes, those eye's holes

And a sighted person grasping the body's rags?

This is infancy with a glistering halo of those deceased states living

in confluence

Will give away that staff to him, the Mirates' state, or send him away

All that only Janus will permit