347-9
I came and I will go, and the Word will REMAIN,
Seeking other carriers.
In the heavenly archives will be written
Of the harvest of its sums and differences.
You think, a word.
Said — not done.
It flew off like a sparrow, and you forgot it.
With it you, in fact, saved or killed,
By PRESSING a button
Unnoticeably small.
Lightly touching
The fibers of words,
In jest or in earnest,
Unconsciously or with virtuosity
They crudely interfere
In the fates of worlds.