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into the desert,
the rose tired chalice opened,
whether the moon will stop her move?
If into the mountain,
the rushed stream will go to the top,
whether the sun begin to speak with the rock?
If into the skies,
the eagle raise an altar to the mercy,
whether the earth will angry roar?
If into the ocean,
the shark sow green grass,
whether the foamy wave will grow dumb?
If to you I stretch my hand,
and the pride into remorse is kneeling,
from every If, before and now,
probably the Impossible will germinate...
© Svetla Pavlova-Faith
© E-publisher LiterNet, 22.08.2000, № 8 (9)
Svetla Pavlova-Faith. The
scream of the silence. Varna, 1999.