If God—though truly, there is none, I swear—
Turned microscope upon this earthly lair,
And with a stern and focused gaze did see
Who’s worthy of their daily bread to be,
He’d spot strange insects, filled with a cosmic fire,
Consumed by passions vast and their desire,
And softly whisper, “Ah, how well I know—
It’s fun to build a world, but wrecking it’s the show.”
Рождественское, автоперевод на английский
© Copyright: Сергей Лопатников, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124122600941
Свидетельство о публикации №124122600941
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