In the land of mysterious demos,
Not depending on time or some tsar,
Where values of people are penn’oth –
There it stands, being seen from afar
Foggy top deeply piercing the clouds
Still is close to whoever observes
One forgets all regrets and all doubts –
Stunning beauty is calming his nerves
Stable wisdom and violence, and hatred
Lose all sense at the Mountain’s top
And the Absolute Power of Silence,
Though attracting, compels you to scoot
But the warrior, free and prepared,
He will follow the path twisting up
Irreproachable, firm and unscared –
He’ll turn into the Mountain’s cub
Thus it towers above generations
Being both in the future and past,
Keeping grandiose truth of creation,
Independent, immortal and vast
Creation
© Copyright: Оксана Линовицкая, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112092109965
Свидетельство о публикации №112092109965
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