Sometimes in grief, Sometimes in laugh ...As all of us in life. The choice - of us, and it is hard. I take the only one. The wooden robe. People, people... We will be offered long time not have the damned bad luck. They say: "You havenít live yet, You need just only start. And offer: vernissages and voyages... horses, beaches, carriages. Full hold steamboats, parties. Or - the wooden robe. - Death. They will be cheerful or glum, play evil jokes or kind the judges, But, for us they offer wooden coffins - robes. People, people... They kindly offer more for us. "Have a smoke!" With their false smile: Ah, sorry, you did not smoke such a long time... Oh, sorry, you didnít start to live, yet, And, than their: "Either - or"... The smoke calls up the dreams. Just one inhale and happier thoughts. To smoke, smoke - the only wish... But our choice is - The wooden robes. - The Death. They will be kind, polite and offer happy life, on plate. But we refuse: " No". And they beat us hard. To Death. People...?
© ?. Translation, 2020