In spite of all that rainy, cloudy, misty days,
When things are hidden mostly behind my face,
I wait for that colorful trolleybus to the sun,
I’m sure it knows the majority of the ways
To my infant battles, which were lost and won.
I wait for that colorful trolleybus to the sun.

I hope naïve I’ll define the term of good mood .
Stupendous joy of smiling best way I should
And counting all the balloons painting the sky
I feel only because I eventually understood
That Question I felt inside, that enormous “why” –
Because of that fancy balloons, painting the sky.

And (how trivial!) flowers and birds and all other stuff
Of which my little worlds were built with love
Will end. And end, showing me nothing at all
At 1 p.m. Or may be a half –
Just making me feel I’m so stupid and small
Leaving here in my heart nothing at all.

And the only thought that gives a chance to fight,
To struggle for the best inhuman right –
That sky waits for me with its birds & clouds
And to live only in foretaste of flight –
The best living ever. I’m distinctly proud,
That sky waits for me with its birds & clouds.

[Строго не судите, умею еще очень плохо. Научусь.]