They say it is much easier to leave

They say
It is much easier to leave
Than wait for one’s impossible return.
To stay
Drowning in hopeless disbelief,
And watch the leaves of resurrection fall
To their knees.
You watch them change their shape,
The lively green to hellish brown and red;
They lie in peace
Until next minute takes
Them. Wind mixes them with dirt, for they are dead.
And even then
It never lets them be:
Then women come and start to sweep away...
And in the end
As soon as night begins
They strike a match – the prophecy of fate.
His fate.
Whether you trust it, or you don’t,
Whether you think that you can save his soul
At any rate.
He is his own master. You are not.
It’s all the same. You’ve got to let him go.
Now watch
The leaves grow green and burn again,
Imagine him, a leaf in autumn’s breath,
He’ll torch
Through dreadful darkness, in the rain,
Then on his knees await his final rest.
And when his head
Falls on the muddy earth,
Another fight will happen here in time,
It will turn red,
Like leaves before his birth,
His flesh will burn in dull unsacred pile.
Don’t cry.
It hasn’t happened yet.
There'll be another time for you to cry.
Give him your love,
Like one forgives a debt,
But never, listen, never say good-bye.
And when
Forever takes him to its wing,
And only time remains for you to tame,
The den
Of his existence, mourning ring,
A swirl of dry leaves. All the same.

 




* Что-то вроде ответа на http://www.stihi.ru/2003/11/25-912