We are born, we die

Felix Komarov



We are born, we die ...
As for river sailing in the open ...
And the soul goes naked,
All that was forgotten in the way.

This will blind to life
Adrift chases down.
And not knowing reproach,
We call it life.

This river of souls asleep
The winner is almost always.
Even the best of nailuchshih-
Only destiny standing water.

But the source for the shower -
wider mouth. Unfolding fate as the horse,
Forever hoops with sadness,
Do not Blame me then.

Do not see the source of the soul.
Do not drop it in the river cliff.
It will be the breath of God.
Only he is alive in the river.