Читать книгу Mexico City Blues - Jack Kerouac - Страница 27

Not very musical, the Western ear

– No lyres in the pines

compare with the palms

Western Sorcery is Sad Science –

Mechanics go mad

In Nirvanas of hair

and black oil

and rags of dust

and lint of flint

Hard iron fools raging in the gloom

But here’s East, Cambodian

Saloons of Air

And Clouds Blest.

Blakean Angel Town.

Grove of Beardy Trees

& Bearded Emptily –

Expressing Patriarchal

Authority

To us listeners

Of the Holy See

Saw,

said,

Saved

Saved my Bhikkucitas