From the cycle "involuntary translations"
From Erich Köntner Peter Sarukhanov / "New" It would be my lyre of the first of the lire - I dream of a full -time weapon, - If we were terrible in the inner world I was able to overturn to the external. When in the native and neighboring land, In the clubs of toxic smoke, Stronghold, Pride, My desert I showed implicitly and visibly. When would words are mercilessly sharp They opened Farisees friends All corpses Funnels, Fragments, Bonfires, By which my world is dotted.