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Great day

After so many lessons in iron atheism

And furtive instants of talk to the other world,

I' the primitive man

In computer age,

Take off my hat to my soul

And praise

Its divine egoism.

It is eternal and I - just ephemeral!


I know that from above

The cosmic mind

Is watching me through its blue reading-glass -

How naive I am, groping around

Between flying birds

And shooting stars.

How I break the planetary dream

To pieces of tiny illusions,

How my morning is born like a saint

And passes away like a dark sinner...


But sometimes I do have a great day.

I erect a pyramid.

Or destroy a Bastille.

I speak up great words.

Or I feel love for all the Universe...


Then all Gods

Invented on earth

Hide under my little finger's nail...

And my soul thrills with my proud stride.

Only the eye, only that eye,

Staring through the blue reading-glass,

Does forgive me everything as a friend would do.

It is wise.

It has foreseen

That sometimes in this world

Even the tiny microbe should have

A great day.




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