451
Away
< Yulia Mironenko
On my band
movement one flaw found:
you always ride in the opposite direction.
So we ride, vidyas afar, just to some eternity,
at junctions, in traffic jams and in fairy tales.
Some in our position
manage to go next - this one continues forward,
and the second - a clumsy ass
backs. Funny, is not it? But do not we also be so wasteful:
we're firmly committed to the development,
tin soldiers in a brighter future,
You hear the engine roars? - To the evolution to a perfect system;
in a lonely future in which we have nothing to expect,
in the future, in a way which is not on the way
us with those,
who would like to
not to go on the track - and just go;
somewhere in the field, with the field of forest,
where zavedut curiosity and courage,
deep in the roads, in ignorance,
pioneer not far from us built autobahns,
Away from - let us - sensible, clear-cut, but imaginary - plans,
stealing mindless happiness-seychastya charm;
in broad steppe nomadic aliens,
which blackens the earth immense night,
inject grass, smells fragrant heather.
And where you hear the Earth warm pulses clearly.
Get out, dear. Away!
the comfortable car
with such a high fuel consumption - Moreover,
what we prayed.
***
Once all the things we so vehemently resisted,
we will inevitably catch up, was coming, fall.
Without the slightest trepidation - it is not even indifference - so goes the rain, without any relationship to us
. As Atlanta found,
he never held the heavens,
and all this imaginary
resistance disappears, leaving nothing more;
there is no need to blow into the sails painted.
A reality that has no name,
skillfully playing the role;
a clever spider weaves
patterns of words thinking
and it may lead to nothing - except for the head pain
from neglect
apparent transience absolutely all phenomena?
No, we're not talking about eternity.
we do
lately almost say - we silently smiling eyed corners,
sleep.
On my band
movement one flaw found:
you always ride in the opposite direction.
So we ride, vidyas afar, just to some eternity,
at junctions, in traffic jams and in fairy tales.
Some in our position
manage to go next - this one continues forward,
and the second - a clumsy ass
backs. Funny, is not it? But do not we also be so wasteful:
we're firmly committed to the development,
tin soldiers in a brighter future,
You hear the engine roars? - To the evolution to a perfect system;
in a lonely future in which we have nothing to expect,
in the future, in a way which is not on the way
us with those,
who would like to
not to go on the track - and just go;
somewhere in the field, with the field of forest,
where zavedut curiosity and courage,
deep in the roads, in ignorance,
pioneer not far from us built autobahns,
Away from - let us - sensible, clear-cut, but imaginary - plans,
stealing mindless happiness-seychastya charm;
in broad steppe nomadic aliens,
which blackens the earth immense night,
inject grass, smells fragrant heather.
And where you hear the Earth warm pulses clearly.
Get out, dear. Away!
the comfortable car
with such a high fuel consumption - Moreover,
what we prayed.
***
Once all the things we so vehemently resisted,
we will inevitably catch up, was coming, fall.
Without the slightest trepidation - it is not even indifference - so goes the rain, without any relationship to us
. As Atlanta found,
he never held the heavens,
and all this imaginary
resistance disappears, leaving nothing more;
there is no need to blow into the sails painted.
A reality that has no name,
skillfully playing the role;
a clever spider weaves
patterns of words thinking
and it may lead to nothing - except for the head pain
from neglect
apparent transience absolutely all phenomena?
No, we're not talking about eternity.
we do
lately almost say - we silently smiling eyed corners,
sleep.