When you are finally filled with a measure of tenderness,
It doesn't matter how someone squeezes the paste out of the tube.
Because the world acquires such a hollow sinlessness,
That all accusations words will lose their sound - and will not be uttered.
When you finally wake up from the sleep of everyday life,
And it doesn't matter that the clothes are not hung by color,
Because a drop of dew will give you so much strength and certainty,
That the world will explode with colors, amused by your happiness.
When you finish your morning coffee in the evening,
And with surprise you spit on the rules, all frozen,
Then suddenly, spreading his arms and straightening his shoulders, fly away
Everything rots
Only the knives should be sharpened.
Ludmila Leshchuk
