Came a rush of whistling,
birds descended from the sky.
Like rustling leaves
they would not fly.
And like a giant wing above me
I watched the swan-storm grow.
The cloud was some enormous bird
that trailed twilight on the place below.
Mysterious feathery shadows
drifting in the wing's wide arc.
I fled the science of hypocrisy
and hurried headlong into the dark.
С журчанием, свистом
Птицы взлетать перестали.
Трепещущим листом
Они не летали.
Тянулись таинственно перья
За тучи широким крылом.
Беглец науки лицемерья,
Я туче скакал напролом.