And now I finally feel
That I am ready for a sickness
To catch a flue that’s been afraid of,
So wind me with the strongest wind
For I then could cough it or just
Sneeze into the open street
Don’t have a handkerchief
But’ve got my hands
To take it off.
And though it seems disgusting
From that all beautiful is born,
Who wants to see the beauty
Will find it in the deepest, darkest
And the wettest hole.
Of course at first,
Of your own, your own.
***
© Copyright: Александр Снитко 2, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117030612905
Свидетельство о публикации №117030612905
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