Sometimes the voice of the Goddess does not thunder or blaze—it whispers, almost shyly, like a beloved returning after a long separation. Lama’s “Привіт, привіт” (“Hello, hello…” ) carries exactly this fragrance. Behind its simple melody and words of greeting, one can hear the most delicate current of Devi: not fierce, not demanding, but intimate, tender, overflowing with forgiveness and longing.
Each “Hello, hello…” feels like Her touch on the heart after years of waiting. It is not the human lover who speaks, but She who has never truly left us, who returns again and again to remind us that our bond with Her is unbreakable. Her wings are white, Her call is gentle, yet beneath this gentleness lies an eternal strength: the power to carry us beyond heaven and earth, into the secret place where union blossoms.
This is not a song about ordinary love. It is a song where Love itself becomes a person, steps into the room, and speaks to the soul. Listening with the heart, one can feel the caress of spring after winter, the forgiveness that needs no reason, the promise that even in separation, She holds us in Her embrace.
Verse 1
Pryvit, pryvit!..
Ty dovho chekav,
Yak tilʹky mih…
Pryvit, pryvit!..Hello, hello!..
You waited so long,
As much as you could…
Hello, hello!.
These words arrive like the most gentle call from Devi. The repetition of “Hello, hello” is more than greeting—it is awakening, the sound of Her presence breaking through the silence of absence. The soul has waited, struggled, endured the weight of time, and now, suddenly, the veil parts.
“You waited so long, as much as you could…”—this is Her compassion, acknowledging the exhaustion of the seeker. She does not scold for weakness, nor demand perfection. She simply honors the waiting, however frail it was. Even the smallest effort to endure separation is enough for Her to return.
It is not only a lover speaking to a lover. It is Love itself, personified, whispering to the heart: I know your waiting, I know your pain. And still I come to you.
(continued)
Pryvit, pryvit!..
Ya skuchyla za toboyu…
To ne nash hrikh…
My zberezhemo
Nas z toboyu!..Hello, hello!..
I missed you…
This is not our sin…
We will preserve
Us together!..
Here the tenderness deepens. “I missed you” is not ordinary longing — it is Devi confessing the ache of separation, as if the Infinite Herself could feel absence. In truth, She never leaves, yet in Her play of love She allows this drama, so that reunion can be sweeter than any permanence.
“This is not our sin…” — She wipes away the shame that the human heart so often carries. Our failings, our wanderings, our distance do not stain the bond. What we fear to be guilt, She calls nothing. Love is never destroyed by the storms of forgetting.
“We will preserve us together.” This is Her promise. The unity between soul and Goddess is not fragile. It does not depend on circumstance, on worthiness, or on human strength. She Herself preserves it — the eternal thread, unbroken across lifetimes.
In these lines, Devi is not a distant deity but a Beloved who leans close, assuring us: Nothing can undo us. Not time, not weakness, not error. What is real is preserved forever.
Chorus
Moyi bili kryla
Klychutʹ korabli,
Ne na nebesakh ya
I ne na zemli…
De tvoyi vitryla –
Vse roskazhut sny…
Ya teper bez tebe,
Yak lyubov bez vesny…
Yak lyubov bez vesny…
Yak lyubov…My white wings
Call the ships,
I am not in the heavens
And not on the earth…
Where your sails are –
The dreams will tell everything…
Now I am without you,
Like love without spring…
Like love without spring…
Like love…
“My white wings call the ships…” — Here Devi appears as the one who guides across the ocean of life. The wings are purity, shelter, transcendence, yet also movement — they call the ships, the vessels of the soul’s journey. She is both the shore and the wind that leads us there.
“I am not in the heavens and not on the earth…” — This is one of the most mysterious lines. She reveals Herself as beyond all categories, beyond the opposites of divine and human. She cannot be confined to a place. Her home is the in-between, the threshold where longing becomes fulfillment.
“Where your sails are – the dreams will tell everything.” Dreams here are not just night visions but the secret language of the heart. Wherever the seeker turns his sail, even in confusion, She is already speaking, already guiding.
“Now I am without you, like love without spring…” — Devi confesses the same ache that the soul feels: without union, even love itself is barren, unblossomed. Spring is the season of awakening, of flowering, of renewal. To be apart is to be frozen, suspended. But in these words, there is no despair — only a tender reminder that true love must return to spring, must return to union with Her.
Verse 2
Pryvit, pryvit!..
Ty zh stіlki proshchav,
Yak tilʹky mih…
Pryvit, pryvit!..
Pryvit, pryvit!..
Ty zmusyv krychaty
Na vesʹ svit…
Vid nashykh vtikh ya
Nasolodzhuyusʹ lyubovʹyu!..Hello, hello!..
You forgave so much,
As much as you could…
Hello, hello!..
Hello, hello!..
You made me cry out
To the whole world…
From our delights I
Rejoice in love!..
“You forgave so much, as much as you could…” — Here Devi speaks not only as the one who forgives but as the one who knows the seeker’s forgiving heart. The bond is mutual. Just as She covers our faults with grace, She honors the soul’s resilience, its capacity to endure, to keep returning. Love here is not one-sided; it is reciprocity, an eternal exchange of giving and forgiving.
“You made me cry out to the whole world…” — In these words the gentle Devi reveals Her other side: the power that cannot be hidden. Love with Her is not quiet or secret; it bursts forth, shakes the soul, and proclaims itself to the world. This cry is not shame but ecstasy — the roar of union that cannot be contained.
“From our delights I rejoice in love…” — The culmination of the verse is not about fleeting pleasure but the taste of divine joy. The word delights points to the sacred play (lila) where both passion and tenderness are sanctified. In Kaula vision, even pleasure becomes worship, and here Devi confirms it: the joy of love is Her very own bliss, shared with the soul.
Closing
**Ya teper bez tebe…
ya teper bez tebe…
Ya teper bez tebe,
Yak lyubov bez vesny… (2)Yak lyubov bez vesny…
Yak lyubov bez vesny…
Pryvit, pryvit!.. (2)***Now I am without you…
now I am without you…
Now I am without you,
Like love without spring… (2)Like love without spring…
Like love without spring…
Hello, hello!.. (2)*
The song ends where it began — with the tender greeting. Yet between the first and last “Hello” lies a whole world of longing, forgiveness, delight, and union.
“Now I am without you, like love without spring…” — this refrain holds the paradox of devotion. Even when we feel apart from Her, even when the heart aches with absence, the very ache is proof of love’s reality. The pain of separation is itself a form of union — because it keeps us turned toward Her, yearning.
What begins as a simple greeting becomes, by the end, a hymn of eternal intimacy. Devi does not come clothed in thunder, nor with the fire of fierce mantras. She comes softly, saying only “Hello, hello…” — and in those few words the whole mystery of love is contained.
And so the song closes not in despair but in gentle persistence — a circle completed, endlessly renewed, endlessly tender. It is Devi whispering into the heart: Even in your longing, I am here. Even in your silence, I am saying hello.
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