O young man with A gaze so bright,
Longing for love and verse by night,
With clumsy rhymes — "parrot" with "carrot" —
You watched the world, yet stood apart.
A tram, a cab, a southern bus —
A ruble paid, no time to fuss.
The stop was called: "Duel on the Hill!"
"Get off! Move on — don't linger still!"
Where was your dawn, so grey and so hard?
The barracks, a stamp, and the military card?
Mathias Rust flew on as empires rusted,
And time spoke softly through Marcel Proust.
Europe, Germany — a southern view,
A village, a river, a viaduct too.
The mist of six years, a treacherous mirage —
A shattered mirror of Lilith's visage.
Forgetting doors, forgetting keys,
He sheds his mask, his old disguise.
A childlike pilgrim, astray in the dark,
A mage — ever awake, eternal spark!
28.09. 2025
The Monologue
© Copyright: Сергей Зигле, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125092800466
Свидетельство о публикации №125092800466
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