The one who closes the gate in front of them
says: you came at a bad time,
he stands in silence and waits
that maybe they are going out, maybe they are just playing.
He stands there until the evening,
it will be evening on the earth.
He walks quietly, in two rows of trees,
he goes out into the open world.
A round, blue cap on his head,
put on wrapped around.
The ton doesn't take a breast virgo,
he wears a hooded hat until he dies.
Tender eyes on the jersey,
boundary where he loses it.
There is always somewhere further from there to go,
from there no one knows him anymore.

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