Be slow, day! Don’t pass by so fast… Don’t make a war ‘gainst castles of a cloud, They were, by silence of the sky, built out, And height was, by the blue of heaven, glassed. And I, a serf, still didn’t pay my rent, I’ll be again bent to the earth by troubles, And it still didn’t pass through my silent mouth – The prophet’s word which world waits to be said. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, June, 2001