Suspends your dreams just on the beams of light

The way it never did, but does it so.

And now the helpless rain falls down - too quick

To strike you down just with its piercing fang,

To hurt you or to wet your broken wing,

Or hush the songs you hardly ever sang.

Keep On Walking

Well, don't make tragedies of trifles

and don't shoot butterflies with rifles!

Some people make the missiles fly -

But laughing it off. Well, do it, guy.

The world is bright behind a smile,

So you may cry for it awhile.

Bear the truth, believe a lie -

Life needs that shady symmetry.

See World at War, it weeps and starves,

The wounded spit on their scars...

Whatever brings the dark and hell,

Put on a suit that fits you well.

And keep on walking down the street

of blood, and tears, and love's defeat.

Let people prey and cry for peace,

but all you need's to keep a crease!

Une Comptine

What can

Be done

one’s eyes

to dry?

You try

In vain.

To laugh

and cry!

The blood

Is cool.

The flesh

Is weak.

Who’s with

The raising

Voice

to speak?

“Stitch us

together!..”

Who could

dare?

Marshes

Ferment

with man’s

Despair.

The doubt

Talks low,

And nothing

Matters

In parts

Of Churches

And

Dictators!

Rumpled Pillows

I could not say I have the edge on him -

Both crumpled waters, forced the underbrush,

Before we stopped at that dark landmark slim

and no more felt that motion in one's rush.

Both leaned at shaky walls beneath the floor,

And never dreamt of basements overhead,

And never dreamt that torn up outlaw

As we lay ghostly in a broken bed.

And when we heard of someone crushed the pane

We never shook at any knock at doors -

Whatever brought to light the darkest lane

For sleepy rumpled pillows guarded both.

It Hurts

It hurts just like an ordinary word,

one's faded smile somewhere abroad,

one's helpless hand or dignified embrace...

It hurts just like a terrifying sword,

Like memories of some wild hopeful place

Which does deny the love, deny the world.

It hurts like flutt'ring midges on the fly.

And it hurts like a distant mother's cry.

* * *

Do not cry for it:

Gone are those who flew over

the cuckoo's nest, alas.

Bring Me Back

Bring me close to your heart.

I could hardly explain

What is being apart

And accepting this pain.

Used to say many times:

'Nevermore, nevermore...'

Self-diminishing rhymes,

Unpredictable awe.

Be not distant and far,

No more fade it to black.

Oh, whatever you are,

bring me back, bring me back!

Une Comptine II

Leave us not! Leave us not!

Our Dad is our God!

Our Dad is our power,

our shelter, our cover!

That is why we love him so.

He will guide, and we shell go.

Welcome place is called “The Hole”,

’tis not dark or black at all