Высоковольтная
Live as you preach
The fallen leaves this morning
are in a silly mood.
Dancing and leapfrogging
they chase each other down the road.

No, that's not true.
Leaves don't have moods.
Unable to dance or play organised games,
what you see is merely dead matter.

Then it's the wind bringing them to life!
Full of mischief, it races along the pavement
tugging at scarves, knocking off hats,
whistling as it goes.

No, that's not true either.
The wind doesn't have feelings. Inanimate,
it's a force of nature, as simple as that.
Wind is just air on the move.

Then it must be the sun smiling down on us!
Or the moon!
Yes, the moon who knows all our secrets,
dreaming in her star-filled chamber.

Boiling gas. Frozen rock.
Put away your pen. Close the book.


Роджер Макгоф

@темы: стихи, что плохо лежало