Плач Турбиной

.Margins' notes.

What's it like? be a part of some anxious whoop?

A pint of anything cherished and vague?

Prefer conveyor's trip-trap to foolhardy swoop?

Sneak up to yourself, run away and beg?

***

-Marguerites alaways grow out of corpse*...

-So what kinda guise you need?

-Bontà divina*. just let me come up with words...

-That one in lace, shady blue I suppose?

-Color of calmness? indeed?..

***

Permanent guilt, mineral tears in casket

Participate in the masterful fear of asking.

Paint some peculiar twirls to admit conclusion;

Pretentiously rowdy to sympathize, not able to get an allussion.

***

-Know what? I hate you .ne'er listened to my advice...

-Darling, likewise.

*strikes the match, alluringly gets the light*

Existence in sequins and consellor-sorry, thats all we got...

-What are you talking about?

-Too seasoned to start a fight...

***

Just think: I used to follow the road of honor

And tried to realize what keeps me within a corner;

Maybe it's ignorance, maybe the wealth of evidence,

But there's no any duty reflections

In glasses or solar plexus-

Invoking to you, lovely victim of circumstance.

***

-I'm half a quart Nevermore* , half a quart Hamlet...

-Well, theoretically...

-Don't even dare! there you are! citizen of the land of puppet...

-Takes one to know one, frankly.

-I'd call you a tosser, but what a disgrace! you're just my child,

The apple of my cataractic eye...

-But why did you gave that student a fright?

*confusingly takes the light*

***

Remember,- said my hoary inner bard-,

Compassion and case of "bud" won't ever be that enough;

You take some trifles from an only one-you tard,

You steal from more than two- that's art.

He was in love with words,

So there's my margins' notes...

* the curtain drops*

*reference to Bergman's "Riten" 1969

*(ital.) Mother of God/ For God's Sake

*reference to Poe's "The Raven".