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All his life he was building something, something invented.
Then the Cretan queen artificial cow,
to cuckold king, then - a maze (already
for the king himself), to hide from the eyes of idle
nasty litter; then - the aircraft,
when the king finally doznatsya, who is he
the court so was able to provide themselves with work.
Son died during the flight, fell
in Sea, as the Phaeton, also formerly neglected
instruction of a father. Now, on the coastal rocks
somewhere in Sicily, looking ahead,
sits an old man, able to move
by air, unless it can be by sea and by land.
All his life he was building something, something invented.
A lifetime of these buildings, these inventions
I had to run, like the invention
and strive to get rid of construction drawings,
childishly ashamed parents. apparently, it is - fear
repeatability. Lapping on the sand with the murmur of the waves,
behind many blue teeth of local mountains - but he
I invented in his youth saw,
Use external similarity of static and motion.
The old man bends down and, tied to the ankle
long string, to get lost,
forwarded, grunt, towards the realm of the dead.

1993

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