Читать книгу Русский паркур / Russian parkour - Евгений Типайлов - Страница 23

We are the children neglected

By our new mother-land,

From her heart disconnected,

We hold up beggars’ hands.

Our parents stopped their games

When they were half-way through.

Half-hearted love they gave

Was all the love we knew.

We now half-understand

The half-truth in the books.

Half-connected to our land,

We’re connected to Facebook.

Our parents took up games

To catch up time they lost,

They sold our land, and name,

And everything that cost.

We get some love, we do some work,

But to a certain limit.

The things we do and love get burked.

And so gets our spirit.

Half-spirited, we still drag on

From our past and parents

Into the future of our sons,

A generation-errant.