When I was young, it was enough to extend my arm, to smile and say "Mama" and everyone would praise my little highness. And the more I grew the more the praises lessened, so they can be lost, who knows where - on the life's long gray roads, and to be scattered in foolish battles, naive victories and worthless initiatives. When two bees meet, they dance and inform each other where the bloom and flowers are. When two ants meet they touch each other and share where there are seeds, grass or a sweet root. And we - the humans, as if smart and wise always run somewhere, always have no time for simple talk, for the fragile happiness of the encouraging look, for the only beam of mutual understanding and warmth. How wise it would be if we stop and rest for a moment from this continuous chase of the naive glory, power and riches, if we realize how much we wasted and lost, if we remember that the running person not only hardly breathes, but hardly laughs, that even when the lovers kiss - they stop in one place ...
Deceitful is this world, deceitful are the people, but the most deceitful of all is the time. It waits for a us to distract ourselves with something beautiful, in loved eyes, ruddy sunset ... and puts a wrinkle on our faces, cut in our souls, splashes a little white in our hairs, glues sadly our lips.
So, you think I am unhappy ?! Oh, no !
I have no fear. In our bodies there is so much phosphorus that we can make 2000 matchsticks. Can you imagine what a fire it would be ?! But what do we do ?
Light up a matchstick here ... and there ... until the fire in the last burning matchstick fades away in the hands of an old man.