Waltz.

I am in the center of the Universe,
I'm squeezed by perception of myself into a dot.

I see the world does not revolve 'round me.
That's me just locked in its rotation.

The steps are like the walls arising in the beat of a waltz...

Hey, who is dancing 'round the hopeless sleeper?

Don't mind. But I wish silence to be here,
not for long, just for a couple of bars.

A man who sleeps is like a madman, he sees what we can't, too.

By the very first movement of his lashes he wrecks a world he's just believed in,

and the stars of which were putting him to the center of their motion, inaccessible to them,

and round him - one-two-three, one-two-three...