Ангел на улице. Angel on the bench

When tickets are heavenly stamped,
the clock hands will leave their circle.
The Angel, relaxed on a bench,
was counting stars to a hund.

– A ladle* is there. A spoon?
I’m kidding, just give me your hand,
my Angel.

– I’m tired a bit,
You’d better sit down as well...

– It seems a dead end, doesn’t it?
“A bad mark” in gradebook of yours,
since happiness passes me by,
when you are in such awful mood!

Oh, Angel! Don’t be a recluse!
It’s time for the brightest night hunts!
The Weds are still catching the Tues,
so shouldn’t we take a detour?

My best friend, you are so smart
to argue with each evil fate!
What’s there? And what street is this,
we are now on? Do you hear…

them singing? – yes, under the bells,
they praise Christ with all their might!
Unable of falling asleep,
I’m nannying the Moon – born again.

Stop sitting and frowning at me!
The Joker will save any game!

...The Angel was silent, – on Earth,
that street was so simply called “Death”.

April 28, 2009

*Ursa Major constellation.