10-04-2011 13:13
"Не искупление, а говно"
Life's seasons are arranged on track:
Time to look forward and then - back;
To scatter and then gather stone...
You ask me how we can atone?
I'm at the age when guilt is vague,
When I'm impervious to its shake,
And time has turned - I don't know how
Into a stubborn "here and now".
As thinking makes the good and bad
I must review what I've just said
And putting air of adult
Take in my life as some result.
I'm no more person with the face
And name - I'm just a case,
Accumulation of the lives,
In their times not realized.
Not realized because of war,
because their time was frail and sore.
I'm the extention of their breath,
Justification of their death.
Those generously given souls
Knew not about their crusial roles
And never would ask for reward -
For such atonement is inward.
We can atone by our living
But not for single minute leaving
A thought - hallowed and sublime -
We live a million lives at a time.
Life's seasons are arranged on track:
Time to look forward and then - back;
To scatter and then gather stone...
You ask me how we can atone?
I'm at the age when guilt is vague,
When I'm impervious to its shake,
And time has turned - I don't know how
Into a stubborn "here and now".
As thinking makes the good and bad
I must review what I've just said
And putting air of adult
Take in my life as some result.
I'm no more person with the face
And name - I'm just a case,
Accumulation of the lives,
In their times not realized.
Not realized because of war,
because their time was frail and sore.
I'm the extention of their breath,
Justification of their death.
Those generously given souls
Knew not about their crusial roles
And never would ask for reward -
For such atonement is inward.
We can atone by our living
But not for single minute leaving
A thought - hallowed and sublime -
We live a million lives at a time.
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"Never send to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee" John Donne
I smile when I read my chil...
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Poor Yorick