Читать книгу Time and love. The novel in verse - George Pospelow - Страница 47

On the bus, in front,

a girl is sitting half-turned,

talking with a girlfriend.

I watch without stopping.

A heavenly intention, a face

bigger than my fist,

the face of an Indian goddess,

of thousands of them – one.

It has never happened:

forgetting the rules, I stare

on the flawless statue

of the Diva of the Divas,

the blithely fast youth,

the Globe’s stealthy tuning fork,

the barely opened bud

of an exquisite orchid.

The Goddess easily helped

to reveal a secret sealing wax —

she opened the Eternity by gifting

me Its tiny key.