The toy

Father, while you were going to go to the war,

You gave me a toy

You told that you will return quickly, asked to wait.

And then you went away, telling us some words.


It seems, that you didn’t take leave of us,

You leaved your works in the corner.

‘Play before I will come back’-you told.

I will return very fast.


There are so much lessons of this life.

The world is found in my heard.

I forgot that toy, life is a toy itself.

I have drowned in the dreams.


I lost consciousness while playing.

While playing I was gathering the mountains.

I left my childhood in the corner,

My hair turned grey so fast.


The world always was changing,

There are so many toys in the world.

The toy of this complicated life.

It’s so hard to get used to it.


I grew up, a man now...

It’s seems you don’t see and don’t know.

I’m playing, father, since that day.

The play is not finishing, and you are not coming back.

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Кристина Гуликовски
Грустное стихотворение ( если конечно я не напутала, переводя)