***

This lake,
Again I've come to Her.
I have been thinking ‘bout the banks
With which she is cut off.
Can't stop comparing us both;
The similarity is obvious-
Although I walk and she does not,
We're both cut off.
There are a lot of stories and beliefs
About life and river,
In which stream moves
Line's straight.
And that is our life?
Oh, please, how can it be so stupid?
The lake is more like me!
It is the very truth.
Our life is bordered with years,
She is with banks-
We're both cut off.
During lifetime we hesitate, reflect.
Is not it like the water's mirror?
When people walking by, look at themselves,
They are seen, too, by water’s inner.
She reflects every move,
Every man, every cloud high above.
Aren't we the same?
We’re both cut off.
Can I step out of ages?
So cannot she
Step out of banks
With which we are...
And you and me,
We both do resonate
With stones and images and pictures,
Keep them inside, we both.
Is there a way?
And do we have it?
I think I know this one;
Water will dry in lake
As well as in our body,
And only in a wave of steam we'll cross the border.
Until that moment we are trapped,
Reflecting images in either mind or water,
We are both locked;
She is with earthy banks,
I am with abstract life.