A rope for someone-else’s baby girl. Петля для чужой малышки

Human theatre of life is great, elegant and sophisticated….

Educated people have got tastes and manners there…

They love their baby-girls but they do not love someone-else’s…

Faces of life dance well on these unfamiliar baby girls’ small feeble feet…

Other’s baby girls will be ill and cry so that our baby girls can laugh happily and wish us a happy new year…

Our baby girls will joyfully play with their Barbie girls…

Hiding their freezing hands underneath their chemises other’s baby girls will be looking at dolls and a different fairy-tale life behind shop windows …

On the happy New Year’s Day our baby girls will start dancing from delight accepting gifts and smiles from adults…

Someone-else’s baby girls will be dreaming of such a swift painless death through a dream of filthy existence and a veil of nice manners, through the darkness of dull thorny everyday life …

They will hopelessly look at the blue sky and dream of becoming that angel behind the shop window soon…

In order to gain reputation for a great stout-hearted commander driving a white limousine through the flows of this life one should save his own charming baby girl and put a rope around someone else’s one…

Give this world a wish for human justice while watching tenderly the reality through your windows…

The world needs joyful baby girls wearing white little bows and black bow-ties…

Heaven needs angels who are happily flying away from pavements and corners of strange   fortunate life…

Take a deep breath at a funeral and feast your eyes upon your babies nicely lined up in mourning, wearing snow-white socks and those black bow-ties…

Write an article in a morning newspaper about a baby girl with a rope made of a dirty kerchief put around her neck…

Soften the rope ends – after all, she died fast failing to realize the delights of living and dying…

Express a wise human thought – after all, happiness is never enough for everybody…

We shall dance at home in the evening jumping cheerfully on our baby girls’ small feet – how amusing they are…!

Plastic little angels will be jumping up on their black dinner jackets – as if clapping their midget hands…

It feels so touching to be at the human theatre of rules and madness of mind and body….!

 

 

 

Автор: magsaund

Образование высшее, экономист. Живу осмысленно, имею привычку думать самостоятельно, т.к. всегда учусь чему то и имею свое мнение, и понимаю, что каждый несет свою ношу. Если ноша бросается, начинаются плохие привычки.

Добавить комментарий

Заполните поля или щелкните по значку, чтобы оставить свой комментарий:

Логотип WordPress.com

Для комментария используется ваша учётная запись WordPress.com. Выход /  Изменить )

Google photo

Для комментария используется ваша учётная запись Google. Выход /  Изменить )

Фотография Twitter

Для комментария используется ваша учётная запись Twitter. Выход /  Изменить )

Фотография Facebook

Для комментария используется ваша учётная запись Facebook. Выход /  Изменить )

Connecting to %s