I occupy a small portion of space
And I rent seven billion atoms
Which by the will of circumstance
Compound my body and face.
Imaging, my atoms are dead.
Am I also dead therefore?
No, I am not, until my soul
Is bored of cycles in me.
I think I was programmed
By the Nature or Genes
Or Destiny, installed in myself.
My movements are under control.
Who is the Master of “to be”?
Who cares of my existence?
Who makes ashes from beings?
And blows up clay with soul?
He comprehends himself in us,
And sleeps in dust till time arrives,
And builds the beauties and perverts
Combining images and words.
He looks at a genius seeing brave
Whose soul is opened inspiration.
He keeps his power in the slaved
And feeble body of creation.
Jan 1998 Free translation with Mazyrco Boris "Я занимаю часть пространсва"