Башня

С бесценной помощью Sibelan Forrester переведено наконец.

At night you will be sought
by the moon’s transparent fire –
deep down, at the well’s bottom
time devours dream and desire
the hurried rush of our vehicles,
our windows in merry rows.
Still – sleep,
while we are yet living
the Tower grows.

Over glass and concrete gardens
where the clouds take berth
silicon sings to carbon
in all the tongues of Earth,
code is storing its binary
honey in eight-faced combs
and –
with coils of optical wiring –
the Tower grows.

Time is breeding disaster
yet You come back to find
that Your Wrath, oh Lord and Master,
is keyed into our design.
An angel with cup and trumpet
waits there at the crossroads.
yet –
with our memory, saved and bundled,
the Tower grows.

( оригинал )