beauty will

They call it Volter syndrome. I still didn’t die, I just cry, cry over every time this life and this world shows me how beautiful it can be.
And every time I think honestly to myself – that I can easily die now. With now regrets. First time it was in Italy, in Rome. Italy is a country which one day will kill me in the narrow street on the warm pavement. First time it was in Italy, in Rome.
On motorbike we crossed the center of Rome. I think I was screaming. I don’t remember, I didn’t hear. I remember small pale thought, even wish – that motorbike can now crush down to ground. ‘cause I m already here. And I don’t want to live through this moment.

What’s the name of that Italian city which I ve seen just in the night? On the roof it was, all the world down at my feet, all this lights, people and history. That was cold, and I want even alone. I so shame to cry every time I m not alone. I turned my face to the city and trusted it to see my tears. In the morning I put my feet up, stretched in the chair and adored roofs. City understood me.

And there too – next night, on the river. Bridges and bridges more. And 2 men behind us. Him, who was with me – was stricked with a thought – that them – these 2 emigrants, these 2 with a poor and hard life, in alien city, in the callanged day’s night – came here, came here with covers and food. To have their dinner. Cause even they need to feel a Beauty.

He felt offended that I didn’t appreciate it. But I was calm and happy – Dostoyevsky a lot of time ago grew a thought in my heart – that beauty will save a world. Even that now it seems overput banality. I smiled happily ‘cause I knew and I felt.

Bridges and bridges more, night and wine, I looked down to water and felt again, again and again – that I m ready, I even want to jump now down, to vanish in this moment and this beauty.

Only I knew – I would survive. I’d never die jumping down to water.