Head Scars Poem by Lev Brekhman
Head Scars
They come and go, crowds thick,
The scars are sickly shining...
Eyes open wide, I stare and think.
If can't perceive - not for the lack of trying...
They come and go, more and more,
With every passing year.
Yes, axes, sabres, and what for?
Or - God's unknown gear?
... What thoughts can grow in the head,
Which had been cut at leisure?
They are alive, just partly dead,
Of our life's true measure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/13/2024 7:40:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
life's true measures, thanks, I like it.