Pale gaps among the branches
Predatory newspapers, an everyday trophy
Like a wounded dog, commander is raving
And this is all usually called, son
Resuscitation
Resuscitation
Fat horsies, well-fed fields
Juicy corncobs, solar udder
A white round dance is waiting around the corner
And this rollicking invisible movie
Resuscitation
Resuscitation
But for an individual soldier
It stopped dying
After all, he has only a word, only a word — but what a word!
He began to gorge, booze, puke, take himself apart
The skull is firmly torn apart, and brain is flowing through the walls
Walls, walls, doors, windows — others were nearby
Were hastily comprehending the state of things
Contemplating the adventures of the One Flowing Everywhere,
Out of habit continuing to repeat ritually:
Resuscitation
Resuscitation
In a hot park — a summer thunderstorm
Late gifts, our voices
Somewhere barely audible is a brass orchestra
And this is all usually called, son
Resuscitation
Resuscitation