Today I argued with my father,
Tried to prove that I was right.
Pounded fist upon the table,
Lost control — I lost the fight.
He was calm, perhaps been drinking,
But I only burned inside.
Couldn't make him lose his temper,
Pounded harder with my pride.
I was screaming, pounding louder,
Couldn't understand it, why?
Why's the glass not ringing out?
Standing far, just standing by.
Why's there no pain in my hand?
Tried to strike with all my might.
All this fury in my soul,
Fought the dishes — what a sight.
Like it's all a painted backdrop,
Nothing real in what I'd known.
Then the answer came upon me:
Twenty years since he was gone.
So it all was just a dream,
And I was raging at myself.
I told father: I love you,
And the glass broke all by itself.
Just a dream…
Полянский В. (перевод моего ранее написанного стихотворения СОН дл песни)
Just a Dream
© Copyright: Владимир Полянский, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126092106205
Свидетельство о публикации №126092106205
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