it brimmed over goblet of the bitterness
the worm has turned
and are scatter crumbs of the
life like the poppy of the grain
but I, I am not a Cinderella,
to gather them together I am not able,
I cannot. I, poetry of the life and growth
differently from you I understand.
and don’t tell me that I don’t feel!
tasting, I am savouring.
and you, you are knowing nothing about it,
because to know nothing you can.
in the glory and glitter, with joy
today you are ploughing your land.
and I, surely I am crazy?
oh no! I other I am collecting crops!
so don’t demand from me that I become
your reflection. it would be for me an end
and true practical joke.and still
leave my thoughts, let at least something,
I have for myself. and when
I will feel bad I will say:
and what’s more need passages,
because this way God wants.
when I will already be closely there,
by the last border, somebody
will count my mistakes and the service.
for you… and will charge for me.
Leave a Reply