Vadim Terekhin is a poet, public figure, General coordinator of the BRICS Writers Association, co–chairman of the BRICS literature network, Chairman of the Board of the Kaluga Regional branch of the All-Russian Public Organization “Union of Writers of Russia”, full member of the Academy of Russian Literature (Moscow), Corresponding member of the Petrovsky Academy of Sciences and Arts (St. Petersburg), member Board of the World of Words Forum at the Publishing Council of the Russian Orthodox Church, Foreign Corresponding Member of the Brazilian Academy of Literature (da Academia de Letras do Brasil – ALB), Honorary Advisor on Global Cultural Issues at the Federation of World Cultural & Art Society (Singapore), poetry expert at the International Literary Association of the ACC Shanghai Huifeng, Deputy Minister- Head of the Department of Culture, Art and Cinematography of the Ministry of Culture of the Kaluga Region (2009-2014), Co–chairman of the Writers’ Union of Russia (2013-2023), actual State Councillor of the 2nd Class of the Kaluga Region, veteran of the Baikonur Cosmodrome.
He is one of the most famous contemporary Russian poets in the world.
Laureate of many international and All-Russian literary prizes: the Prize of the Central Federal District of the Russian Federation in the field of literature and art, the international Slavic festival “Golden Knight” (twice), Recipient of the badge of the Patriarch of Moscow of All Russia “For Contribution to Literature” and the diploma of the nominee of the Patriarchal Literary Award named after Equal-to-the-Apostles Cyril and Methodius, the Kirill Turovsky Prize (Republic of Belarus), Orpheus on the Danube International Poetry Festival (Serbia), Silk Road International Literary Festival (People’s Republic of China), Poet of the Year by the People’s Republic of China, Rabindranath Tagore International Literary Award (Golden Bust, India, Bhopal, 2022), Kathak International Literary Award (gold Medal, Bangladesh), Honorary Prize of the 12th International Festival of Culture and Arts “Babylon” (Iraq), He has also received Honorary Diplomas from international literary festivals in Cuba, Colombia, Venezuela, Brazil, Indonesia, Italy, Turkey, the UAE, Bahrain, Uzbekistan, and many other countries.
His works have been translated into all major world languages, including Chinese, Arabic, Hindi, Bengali, Marathi, English, Spanish, Italian, German, Portuguese, Malay, Vietnamese, Romanian, Turkish, Serbian, Macedonian, Greek, Tajik, Uzbek, Kyrgyz, and Yakut.
THE NATURE OF LOVE
The night is black, the forest vast as space!
A million people wander there,
Binding, twisting time and place,
A million paths and moments rare.
With whom, how we live — just a dream,
In the dark, each other unseen.
All we have is faith, it would seem —
To find salvation in beauty’s gleam!
We seek perfection, day and night,
Waiting for bliss to quell our fright,
When in this life, with pure delight,
It comes with a childlike smile so bright.
Scents, touches, sounds that softly call,
Songs and distant worlds enthrall;
Through creative torment, one and all,
They promise gifts that heaven shall.
Then a book will open, clear and true,
I’ll step into a world anew.
And love, like a fierce flash, shining through,
Will light my mind, so fresh, so new!
I’ll say to it: “Life is blessed, dear,
Not in vain have I lived all these years!
You, the one,
The only one in all the spheres,
Emit a light that never steers!”
To delight in beauty, timeless, clear,
Light the candles in the hut so dear.
From the universe’s roar, find a place to hear
Silence, by the stove, year after year.
Thus, by a wish, as if by spell,
Await the world’s gifts, all so well.
Watch the logs that in the fire dwell,
And the hot coals, glowing, casting spell.
As the earth breathes in the autumn air,
Dreaming of spring, its blossoms rare.
Life is nourished — not just with bread to share,
But with the word — a gift beyond compare!
* * *
I’m not a tall man, short my height,
And in this world I weigh not much.
I pass my brief and fleeting life —
A moment on God’s little thumb.
When I leave this body’s cell,
As a heavenly dweller free,
I won’t take up much space as well,
Lord, entering Thy company!
One among the countless throng,
No complexity suits me right.
Care for my smallness all along,
Please forgive my lowly plight!
In my intricate fate’s design,
I have known earth’s passions deep.
Love that’s gathered, Lord, in Thine —
In me is shattered, torn, and bleak!
No special need is found in me,
My vision’s narrow, limited.
And yet I’ve seen the light, you see —
For some intent I’ve been Thy fit!
As simple as a name, a count,
A living form of measured worth —
By which they gauge both evil’s mount
And faith’s unyielding, steadfast girth!
PARTICIPATION
I stand before God’s sacred door,
Against all meaning, as before,
And wait until a part of God
Within me spreads its petals, unawed.
Not long to wait — it’s time, at last,
To draw the final reckoning past,
With hope that from the lifeless stone
A living flower shall be shown.
But I put faith — Your face is bright!
Blessed for ever is Your sight,
Where even ashes, dull and grey,
Can turn to fire, come what may!
ALMOST WATER
Human, almost water —
Spills through cities, ever-changing faces,
Flows, shifts, without a master,
Through time and space, in endless races.
Deep within, he dreams of Heaven,
Yet walks the path he should not take.
Pours beyond the edge — unshriven —
Dousing Hell’s pans, for mercy’s sake.
Human, almost water — see? —
Once you’ve met, you can’t retrace:
Never greet the same soul, free —
Twice within one fleeting face.
Always different, day by day,
In a shell that’s never still.
No — while living, come what may —
No fixed point within him, nil!.
* * *
The youthful, ringing [moment] has flown away,
And the springtime nightingale has sung its last.
I have but now — it speaks without delay,
Ruthlessly straight, of value fragile, vast,
It tells me of its fragile worth, I say.
To you — both strong and small, who’ve known the load
Of bitterness and honour, as it may,
No matter how life twists the path we’ve showed,
Each day it looks from mirror’s silent shade,
Presents a strict, personal account, unerased.
Just a man by tribe and kin, I see
The evening dawn across the sky so free.
And for the fact I came from seed, you see,
And grew within Earth’s bounds of destiny,
O Lord, I thank You — gratefully, sincerely!
* * *
A human life — a fleeting trace,
Yet God’s great power hides within.
I am the sum of what I face —
This truth has held since I begin.
It lay wherever it would rest,
It moved as fancy led the way.
This body, human, tried and blessed,
Was never mine — I must say.
With reach so broad, it gained new strength,
Each year seemed to make it strong.
But born of dust, at any length
Returns to ash — where it belongs.
* * *
How much passion and how much fire
Existed in the world, ere I aspire?
How many lived, by fate’s command,
Kin yet strangers in this land?
How many sprouted from the ground,
Relatives in me now found,
In the circle of endless motion,
Reflection, intersection, devotion?
I see them standing in a row,
Their eyes through darkness ages glow,
Gaze upon me from a realm unknown,
With hope so clear, unmasked, full-blown.
It is I, their distant guide,
Who must bring peace to this wide tide,
Setting out upon a distant way,
To God give what is His for aye.
It is I who carries on their quest,
Must deceive no soul, stand my test,
Live a life without pride or guile,
And pass their hope, mile after mile…
* * *
How swiftly children grow, you see,
And leave their parents’ home, so free.
My friends on earth, alas, are few —
Far more have passed to worlds anew.
On heaven’s edge or hell’s own gate,
Along life’s road, both late and straight,
You cannot say to time: “Don’t go,
Dear time, just pause, move slow, I know!
Don’t fade away without a trace,
Don’t slip through fingers, keep your place.
Stand tall, erase each furrowed line,
Defy your laws, just for a time.”
But knowing nothing, not a clue,
Of what the end may bring to view,
Earth’s life still rushes, fast and bright,
With gentle blush upon its light.
* * *
Death brings forth no life, it’s true,
But we burn like flares aglow,
Tossing essence, feeding through —
We bring death to life, and so…
It arrives, we know not why,
From no place we can name or show,
But from childhood, you and I
Bear its hungry child below.
From each loss and every pain,
From ill health and spirit’s strain,
It will whisper, call your name,
Healed at last by love — not by gain.
* * *
No fatigue I knew,
Years swiftly passing through,
To stern old age anew —
Freedom’s time in view.
From a seed that grew,
One need not be afraid,
When time’s end comes to you,
To be — not just displayed.
Everything’s allowed,
In the sky so blue,
In silence, hallowed, proud —
But not all is true.
In this world so brief,
With a heartfelt plea,
On eternity’s threshold,
Be your true self, free.
