The country has become our society, even to herself – fear of death, but more afraid of life. Fatigue – this is something innate in us. Tired of being read in the movements and actions of our children. Fatigue, for pragmatic arguments of the mature generation. Fatigue, as premature aging, early emasculatory all passionate, poetic and creative in our attitude. Verses are not a panacea for ennui.
Because on their themselves, the poems, as they have not yet embody neither passion nor poetry, nor volitional recruitment. For poetry is not greater than its creator, and any attempts to present the matter differently, in a vain effort to beat his own insignificance in steps of rhymed verse, at least, look pitiful and ridiculous: laughable strained pathos of poetry, bloated from the overflow of self-importance. But the emptying of the soul, excited by a sense of infinite pity itself – this is no rhyme is not justified, no high syllable will cover – this abomination tread shameful stain through any talent. I'm going to that if you have never written poetry, then for God's sake, do not start. If you have already write poetry – choose a quiet place for this and there samoudovletvoryaytes without prejudice to the surrounding organisms. In the extreme case, when your mind is already surrendered under the pressure of an irresistible desire to be heard, understood and evaluated when the sense of self-irony recedes before the image of a faceless loneliness – then it's too late to abstain – not endure.