К рожденью опоздал
И к жизни не успел.
Уже заполнен зал,
Набором глупых дел.
Базар-вокзал-достал,
На перепутье дней.
И жизнь словно украл,
Нельзя назвать моей.
Все кажется не тем,
Не то, не те, не так.
Клубок сплошных проблем.
А впрочем... все пустяк.
Проходит все, послушай,
Мне Соломон сказал.
Твоя родная туша,
Покинет этот зал.
Сольется с вечной болью,
И с раем пополам.
Наполнит раны солью,
И медом, знаешь сам...
Чтобы родиться снова,
Не тем, не так, никак.
Телесные покровы,
Страданье, боль... пустяк.
Все не так
© Copyright: Дмитрий Туманный, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №218022500887
Свидетельство о публикации №218022500887
Рецензии
I was late to be borning,
To life I was late too.
In evening and in morning –
I ask: what do I do?
I plagued by doubts soul
In whirlpool of the days.
And life as if I stole –
It is not my life-way.
Wrong color and wrong sound,
Not that, not what, not this.
The problems are around,
Although... All’s bullshit.
All passes, listen, buddy, –
The Solomon told me.
You was smart or was dummy –
This big hall you will leave.
Your soul will merge with pain,
She’ll merge with paradise.
But, alas, all in vain –
It will be twice and trice:
She will be born again,
Not there and not this,
If body is – will pain,
The heartache. The bullshit.
Кирилл Ивницкий 27.02.2018 14:19 • Заявить о нарушении
To life I was late too.
In evening and in morning –
I ask: what do I do?
I plagued by doubts soul
In whirlpool of the days.
And life as if I stole –
It is not my life-way.
Wrong color and wrong sound,
Not that, not what, not this.
The problems are around,
Although... All’s bullshit.
All passes, listen, buddy, –
The Solomon told me.
You was smart or was dummy –
This big hall you will leave.
Your soul will merge with pain,
She’ll merge with paradise.
But, alas, all in vain –
It will be twice and trice:
She will be born again,
Not there and not this,
If body is – will pain,
The heartache. The bullshit.
Кирилл Ивницкий 27.02.2018 14:19 • Заявить о нарушении