Перевод "Прогулки #3"
To my left, old women huddle
by the roadside, thinning lives.
They're upholding one another,
so all will lay their lightened spines
into coffin-shaped, junk-pile chests,
then melt away in turquoise bliss.
I wish to think what waits is rest,
not stewing in some grim abyss.
To my right, kids comet by,
and through them—life's current raw.
I wish to think the Tree of Life
will see its branches grow strong.
How I wish
the innocent
were never wronged...
Walk 3
© Copyright: Вячеслав Вьяса Киреев, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126042304610
Свидетельство о публикации №126042304610
Рецензии