Читать книгу Русский паркур / Russian parkour - Евгений Типайлов - Страница 15

As I move automatically

Through the daily routine,

My heart beats phlegmatically

Against a dry wind.

I am chained to my watch,

Hands move ruthlessly on,

Work around the clock,

Like an office drone.

Everything I perceive

Through the prism of my mind,

Through the veil that I weave

Of the shadows inside

Is subjective and bent.

I bend fingers and play

A night piece that is meant

To take sadness away

With a high major key,

With a line from a song

That wakes hopes within me

And puts right all things wrong.

Right or wrong – who can tell?

Once a kick in the back

Sends you backwards from hell

To the luck that you lacked.

And the guardian angel

Says you’re never alone,

Shows a path through all dangers,

Cuts your way through the thorns.

With a smile I remember

That the chains aren’t real,

I salute and surrender

To the peace that I feel.