Only ravens flying over my secure head,
And I can quite imagine their troops be white,
I`m looking for the fallen ones, but not for mad,
For just to learn them how again to fly.
Thank`s God I`m gifted with a present time
That I am living freely breathing with a pen in hand,
It really matters, merely the sense of life
To write and sing it praises for benevolence.
From day to day however I`m afraid
That i have made the less of most important messes
Managed by laziness and other daily aids
And time-like river - aiming at distresses.
But I collect my thoughts and forces in the fist
To 'dig the turf’ and build a bridge to heaven
With just a pen, relying on my wrist
And my companions. Flying like a raven.