***
In us, the divine is playing -
So in the drops of water the sun is refracted,
Then joking, then solemnly,
Enlightens through or just touch.
We compose a mosaic
From various aspects: attempts, events.
More often it's a prose writer,
Though to the stars the impulse, which is in the soul, is primitive.
And to spite that program,
With shares, destiny is hopelessly called,
Break up for years
Its stone ice
Long
In search of the sun ...