Frankly Speaking Poem by Galina Italyanskaya

Another break of day - another try to talk.
I see, it's hard to you to pick up clever words.
It's all been said before, my little groundhog,
It all, and even more, much more than pride affords.

And all your precious gems, as far as you can see,
Have never made a change, however much you spoke,
As if against the wind one's paddling through the sea,
And cannot move an inch in spite of all the work.

You watch me all my life and count my sins aloud.
No doubts, there are more than seven on my list.
No doubts, you can judge. If I lived on the cloud,
I'd have already killed me thrice or twice at least.

Because it's vastly easier to target from above,
Where everything is clear despite the overcast.
But you're much too kind, or just too much in love.
You simply contemplate, how long the game can last.

I guess, it won't be long: I haven't learnt to fly,
And I can't sing my song directly from the stage.
It's only in my dreams, where I am able to cry.
In real life my voice is locked into the cage.

But what if even you can't realize the truth?
What if you see its face, but fail to recognize?
I guess, that were it fate, you wouldn't need my proofs,
You wouldn't be so blind up there in your skies.

Almighty God sometimes can't jump above His head.
Yet you can laugh at me, and I will laugh with you.
And maybe it will help to stop me going mad,
For, frankly speaking, I have nothing more to do.

__________________

(08/02/2019 Ukhta)