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Англійська
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When she
[A voice from radio:]
For men it isn’t worth knowing about consequences –
For them causes are sufficient.
When they achieve success in everything –
They fill it with nothing.
When they tell about “mutual”,
They mean “their own”
It’s better not to tell them about what will be
Not to lose what is now!
[A woman:]
A want you to understand: I’m free from you!
I’m free from everyone! Why are you silent?
Why do you keep being silent?
Someone is more succeed with consonants, someone – with vowels
It wasn’t possible to ignore her – she was laughing in her sleep.
She's so easily sinking her teeth into a skin, not knowing this is my skin.
If she woke up some day – it would be nice to know her name.
If she started writing memoirs about every gotten wound,
The book of her would be equally successful as the Tora or the Koran.
Men would read this miraculous book feeling own guilt,
They would burn it out in squares of a capital before starting a war.
When she comes here again, when she finds her footsteps,
When she brings with her the silver of grass and weightlessness of water
I will know that her warmth – it is all what was and wasn’t,
The only what was holding her here, the only what was leading her further
When she finds me again, whispering only one thing:
What had been – passed a long time ago; and what will be – will pass too
So don’t you hide your face, this silence has neither beginning nor end
While our tenderness is rising, while our hearts are beating
But she woke up and everything started at the very same moment.
She held her own during confessions, interrogations and in court.
She told it’s better when weapon is in hands than when crosses are on coats of arms.
When she pronounced a word “love” I saw blood on her teeth.
Guard her, angels; take her under your light wings.
Tell her keep calm when another time she falls into a nosedive,
Let her give back my manuscripts, my silver and my fuel,
And ask her some time if she remembers me at all…
When she comes here again, when she finds her footsteps,
When she brings with her the silver of grass and weightlessness of water
I will know that her warmth – it is all what was and wasn’t,
The only, what was holding her here, the only what was leading her further
When she finds me again, whispering only one thing:
What had been – passed a long time ago; and what will be – will pass too
So don’t you hide your face, this silence has neither beginning nor end
While our tenderness is rising, while our hearts are beating
When she comes here again
When she again
When she finds me again, whispering only one thing:
That, what had been – passed a long time ago; and that, what will be – will pass too
So don’t you hide your face, this silence has neither beginning nor end
While our tenderness is rising, while our hearts are beating
our hearts,
our hearts,
our hearts,
our hearts.
Hereforfun
the69voices✕
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