Life
To live – it is good.
Past – superfluous.
The boy has come in.
The boy has gone out.
Evening is lit.
My century is burnt.
The boy has come in.
The boy has gone out.
What is there in the soul?
The cut cherries.
The boy has come in.
The boy has gone out.
With word and knife
Has struck, but he is breathing.
The boy has come in.
The boy has gone out.
The old – for what?
Tears I hear.
The boy has come in.
The boy has gone out.
And to prolong the life
We, crying, beg the God.
And in fire the way disappears.
But was there the boy?
(с)Leonid Shimko
http://moy-bereg.ru/poeziya/zhizn.html
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