I do not believe in picturesque letters
on the parchment.
In counting, polling and marching.

I do not believe in mosaics and stained glass
or in various rainbows after the storm and rain.

I do not even believe in the songs of tired musicians,
in the waves on the docks
and in imaginary looks of melancholic cony-catchers.

I only believe in pore on stone,
centuries-old testimony
and forgiveness after cognition.