Читать книгу Русский паркур / Russian parkour - Евгений Типайлов - Страница 27

True to myself, I keep believing,

Despite the things I hear and see,

That all events will have a meaning,

Though meaningless they now seem.

Time is unstoppable and endless.

And though I know it to be true,

I don’t get doubtful or restless,

Believing God is endless too.

New lines imprint a webby pattern

Upon my forehead, temples gray,

This leap year it begins to matter

What I have done along my way.

I can’t step twice into a river,

Or come out dry from every pour.

All ultimatums I deliver

Are to myself and no one more.

I set the bar for my own self,

For what I do and say and write.

I put myself onto bookshelf

And feel what’s happening inside.

I’ll go on straight and turn around

Four times to end the shuttle run,

I’ll solve my route across and down

And win a medal place of rhyme.

I want to write something that counts,

To break through a transparent tape

That’s at the finish of the doubts

And limits I want to escape.

I must get from under my covers,

And set my poems free.

Being locked between book covers

Is what their freedom means.

If I am in a bind somehow,

I want my poems bound, too.

Though meaningless it’s looking now,

I’m sure they will be a breakthrough!