Poezie
Suicide
by Marin Sorescu
1 min lectură·
Mediu
In me there were twenty generations
To say the least
And this morning, I can\'t tell why,
Maybe as the window was open,
One jumped from the ledge.
Then, all of them
Started throwing themselves
As if off a trampoline,
One after another, in a row,
According to the principle of disintegrating
Sheep.
In half an hour
I was left completely naked,
And, ashamed, I jumped as well.
I think I died around the fourth floor,
In any case, by the second,
I was gone.
All these
Are now conveyed to you by a passer-by,
That is to say, one of us,
Whose fall was broken.
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