A keresés eredménye

Bureaucrat

You called me,
You looked for me.
But I was busy - end of the quarter.
On Monday
Start over,
But if busy, sorry - end of the quarter.
 
I'm a bureaucrat,
At times I'm not happy with myself.
I'm not alone,
And with it I'm undefeatable,
I'm not alone,
But I'm almost invisible,
Not alone,
But I'm always unloved.
 
I'm happy to be idle,
And have delays.
Ready to put an end to the case.
I am always busy,
And by promising
I fulfil
Nothing.
 
I'm a bureaucrat,
Sometimes I'm not happy with myself.
I'm not alone,
And with it I'm undefeatable,
I'm not alone,
But I'm almost invisible,
Not alone,
But I'm always unloved.
 

Astrological puzzle

Thousands of stars
Millions of planets
Determine the span of your years
Time goes away, it can't be returned
The path of life is determined.
 
The eye of fatum looks
In torment each of us is born
The strings of fates and determinations intertwine
Everybody in the world will be playing their role
 
But a saxophone on the snow
The thirst for moving upwards
It is
The movement-rotation of planets.
 
Saxophone on the snow
The thirst for moving upwards
It is
An astrological puzzle.
 
Nostradamus thought that we can
Walk into the light from the deadly dark
Chains torn, there is a chance for success
As a reward for us - Homeric laughter.
 
But a saxophone on the snow,
The thirst for moving upwards
It is
The movement-rotation of planets.
 
Saxophone on the snow,
The thirst for moving upwards
It is
An astrological puzzle.
 
What I have saved, I won't give to anyone
Where are you today - here or there?
Variety of thoughts and topics
But you don't scream, because you're mute.
 
But a saxophone on the snow,
The thirst for moving upwards
It is
The movement-rotation of planets.
 
Saxophone on the snow,
The thirst for moving upwards
It is
An astrological nonsense.
 
Nonsense!
 

Evening blues

In the past will remain the worries of the day,
The evening will decorate boulevards with lights,
I am returning from work, tired,
Confidently walking on the pavement.
Towards me, crowds of passers-by are moving,
Air is saturated with vapour of gasoline.
In the century of technological revolution, resemble each other
Homo Sapiens and an automobile.
 
Rustle of tires and the breathing of asphalt,
Artificial intelligence - it's a reality
The air is stuffy, like on the island of Malta
Gently burning with fever, but that's normal.
 
Neon rain, prisms of concrete masonry,
The melancholy of a saxophone, about something forgotten.
In a rhythm, rotates the life of mechanisms.
I think, as if we're here transiting.
 
Rustle of tires and the breathing of asphalt,
Artificial intelligence - it's a reality
The air is stuffy, like on the island of Malta
Gently burning with fever, but that's normal.
 

Teletourism

A possibility of incidents
May rob someone of sleep,
But I enjoy
The travel
And am inclined
To change the scenery.
 
Push the doubts
Away,
Don’t waste the words
In vain.
The comfort of foreign cities,
The adventures are awaiting you everywhere.
 
Here are the possible travels,
Here are the possible happenings:
 
You are the welcome guests
In Nice,
Your mom is worrying about nothing.
In Milan you are offered pizza,
And you are so eagerly awaited in Bahamas.
 
The evenings are gorgeous in Borneo,
The red wines are great in Malaga,
There is retro and neo music in every corner of the world.
 
Here is a cabaret in Singapore,
And maiden with the doe eyes,
And horror of the tropical hurricane,
And bliss of the springtime Delhi.
 
There is no use of thinking of suffering,
And tediously waiting for a visa.
You have all the time at your disposal -
Sunday teletourism!