Urbietorbi

< Vitali Zaichenko
Bat Yam



Maybe it's the end of time. Or
only the beginning of other, completely different around.
The candle flames now routinely lick
millennial shade of a majestic cathedral.
Urbietorbi, the crowd picked up and amplified,
pereplyvet of Cathedral Square and the world,
in palaces and huts.
But none of the conclave, as, indeed, and no consultation,
not healed the sick, he did not raise from the dead,
not comforted disgruntled.
The reason, of course, light, only became interested in genes and bosons.
Evil, meanwhile, acquires missiles, channels and shelves,
evil richer, the all-powerful, organized ...
A good remains the same with bare fists.
Maybe it's the end of time. But if in the candlelight,
and silk, and gold
can still affect the world completely different,
dirty, dangerous, beggar -
damn it, do something, hit the bell,
Organize,
For a boat, and if it turns
bottom up ...

No one will even indulge in grief.
Urbietorbi.