He looked at me as if I had no worth.
I saw his eyes were empty when he finally withdrew —
“Why do you see yourself the center of the earth?
There are many millions just like you.”
He was gruff and angry — that I could see.
His wrathful face would twist and swell;
And if he could, he’d have crucified me,
Because I respected myself.
But my pride didn’t want to kneel,
Every minute stretched long before it was done;
There are millions like me, but I feel,
That I will always be ONE.
For everyone has his own style,
Not everyone can be coerced.
WE — isn’t many standard I’S —
Ifs many different worlds.
WE — is the bosom of nations, of billions,
WE — is the clan that all persons comprise.
And only he will get respect from millions
Who can respect a million I’S.
Перекладач: Andriy M. Freishyn-Chirovsky