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how many dimwits peered into your century-old eyes
and what did they want to see in them?
how many dimwits admired your stares
and blabbered about
whatever they wanted to see in them?

you must have known:
days pass not according to the theory of evolution
but in the dim light of a desk lamp
in between the dusty furniture and motionless books

how many chats and paradoxes
you didn’t get
how many hands touched you
how many cameras flashed

your host’s weary footsteps
the immovable North Pole
the regular itinerary to the food bowl

a negligible price tag on history

translated by oksana maksymchuk

the original poem

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