724
Íåòðóäíî æèçíü èçîáðåñòè –
Áîã êàæäûé áîæèé äåíü
Ñîçäàíüÿ âáðàñûâàåò â ìèð –
Ïî ïðèõîòè ñâîåé –
È ïîëîìàòü íåòðóäíî æèçíü –
Ãîñïîäü íàø èç ñêóïûõ
È âå÷íîñòè íå ðàçðåøèò
Ýêñïðîìòîâ íèêàêèõ –
Ïóñòü ðîïùåò ïðîáíûé ýêçåìïëÿð –
Ïëàí ïðèíÿò ðàç íàâåê –
Çäåñü ÿðêèé ñâåò ïðèáàâëåí – òàì
Óáàâëåí ÷åëîâåê –
724
It's easy to invent a Life —
God does it — every Day —
Creation — but the Gambol
Of His Authority —
It's easy to efface it —
The thrifty Deity
Could scarce afford Eternity
To Spontaneity —
The Perished Patterns murmur —
But His Perturbless Plan
Proceed — inserting Here — a Sun —
There — leaving out a Man —