The word of a firebird flew into the garden,
Until dawn, so that no one will be frightened.
Between the sheets of thoughts for a moment lit up,
Flamed feather in the grass was lost —
Invitation-hint,
To search for a dream.

Not the goal, but the process warms the soul.
A satisfied bird watches from behind the horn,
How do I have to look around for him
In words thought, spoken, heard.

Hide and cry and don’t remember the moment
In my old age
Dedication to your student —
Wait for the finishing tape.