Angel

Everybody has angels.
Every night they come, 
Sit at the head board and wait
Until people fall asleep.
Then they take their souls on journeys.
They take kids to cafes and sweetshops,
Toy-stores and zoos,
Circuses and aquariums. 
Most adventurous angels
Let souls fly.
In the morning, 
Kids tell about their dreams
And grandmas, hearing about the flights, 
Look at them slightly worrying, 
And tell them, smiling,
"It means, you grow." 
I never speak about my dreams. 
I never dreamed about cafes or sweetshops,
Zoo, circus or dolfinarium. 
My angel is strange. 
He smokes a pipe 
With strange, sweet smell, 
Different from my father's tobacco,
And wears rotten jeans. 
He carries me away,
To where it should be cold
Because nobody lives here,
Nobody is here
Except us.
There is star dust
And orange bursts of supernovas, 
Black holes
And comets with blue sparkling tails.
He told me, he is very curious
About what is inside these black holes.
He told me, 
When I die,
He will be free of his job
And will go closer to one of them,
And it will engulf him
As it engulfs everything
That comes too close.
I don't want it to happen.

Maybe, I'm bad,
And only deserve a mad, or crazy, or poor angel?
Maybe he is not allowed in zoos and aquariums
Because he disturbs animals,
Or he hasn't money for candies,
And that's why he takes me to such
Deserted and cold places?
But I don't want to trade him for someone else. 
I can visit the zoo with Grandma,
Go to the sweetshop with Ma
And to the circus with Pa. 
And no one but him
Can ever bring me
Where there is a chill, and star dust, 
And rainbow explosions. 

 Русская версия