The Robots (An Observation at the Centralized Marking)
Advance they to the Heads with timid hearts,
Holding breath for approval of the pen green,
Suppressing courage, and subduing valour,
As a rebuked, recoiled hungry child,
Goes ahead to the sustaining parents,
To beg pardon of the fiftieth wrong,
Or as a murderer confronts shrinking,
The justice on the day of decision,
Yielding, submitting the existence whole. They move around, the figure ninety nine,
And work like an ox harnessed in front,
At the well, moving round and round,
With wrapped eyes following no direction,
Perceiving the long distance covered
Might bring him at the destined point.
But it is pity, in the evening it dawns,
Their dreams shatter, finding at the same spot,
They had started the journey where from.