Grieving fox

Автор: Сахаджара


With salty and closed eyelids so serenely,

You seem to be dreaming and again alive.

But for believing this lie, to be convinced and feel relief

I must become limitlessly mentally ill.



However, I'm long ago sick.

And we look already alike.



Still I breathe, but you don't.

Nineteenth day - don't.



No fear of touching the skin,

Yet frightful to make a damage.

And I make no movement; rigid

With efforts to hold back lamentation.



Me and fox, having no longer owner -

Similar, wrapping corpse, we grieve.

Your bedding, the last and eternal

Will also be last for me.



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