Читать книгу Русский паркур / Russian parkour - Евгений Типайлов - Страница 11

Let us not talk about the past

And dreams that won’t come true.

Let’s raise a glass to die that’s cast

And see the shot glass through.

A bright balloon flies up and up —

The end of children’s party.

We ought to know as grown-ups,

It symbolizes parting.

The tap is dripping: pat-pat-pat,

And counting our time.

Defeated, I am lying flat

With rusting soul and mind.

Tell me a joke I haven’t heard

To tear me from my thoughts.

I’ll laugh until the mental gird

Bites in my mind and hurts.

We’re all the same, the hopeless lot,

Behind the window curtains,

Like actors playing the old roles,

The roles we know for certain.

We can but sigh and shake our hands

In silent understanding,

Admit there is no turning back,

Accept that time’s unbending.