Фермата

Стихи на английском

Castration

I’d like to castrate myself
because there is no sense in me as a man.
I’d like to castrate myself,
I lost my ego a long time ago
Where the rivers flowed
now the sadness grows,
and horizons fall
and the bitter taste —
there’s no pride in that,
only shameful waste.
Seekers come and go,
only I’m still there,
as the rivers flow
with my falling hair,
I’m too dumb, too blunt,
I am out of league,
banished from the University,
lost the contest —
draped in white,
I lean over this field
as a pimple on someone’s ass
and all the Omaha beach soldiers,
and all the Stalingrad soldiers,
and all the Trojan soldiers
are crying over me
and I cry over them —
death castrated us all.