To move your hand from light to dark
And feel the cold of a whole universe…
I’m plodding over the grey asphalt…
I’ve slipped up over asphalt in cold.
It is grey… But yet ice is transparent
Over the unpeeled asphalt.
It – has become dark, cold, this ice,
Which was all covered with a dust…
To clean the ice… to reach the edge of sky,
That can’t reflect in the piles of dirty ice…
And hand pines in the cold darkness.
I can bring palm – to fire. From cold of skies –
To bonfire, to the glow of a sunrise…
To move my hand – there a silent forest…
To close my eyes – to breathe an air swallow…
Open my eyes – the magic world is here! Now!
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