While the regiments are laying weapons in the wardrobes of the liberated
magical truths are nailing scale on the heads…
No whistling, whispering, shouting and noise… they have no power.
Never future, and the born have forgotten the past.
And while I’m thinking and standing… of course…
I only just have time to love you.
The steamship anchored in the lowland, unpainted for centuries.
The groom with rowan rein is only nodding a bit…
On Tesla’s wire that is swinging over the field
millions of black birds, vegging out… Overused cliché.
And when I’m staring at them and counting… of course…
I only just have time to love you.
Everything passed away in a moment, without a trace the boat departed
to the other shore of unhappiness where the refugees changed.
Once I wasn’t aware of, now I know, there are also other plains…
There are other streets and heels, like a beak.
And while I’m fidgeting about whether I still exist… of course…
I only just have time to love you.
Water the sandy wastelands with blood for a new religion to spring
without a trace, as a disobedient and mischievous son.
Repeat this Herod’s run over the field as an act
and push on, let the misfortune drive you…
And while I’m twisting and hurting… of course…
I only just have time to love you.