The Mousetrap....



He watched with interest
the mouse
in the mousetrap.

It was struggling hard:
moving violently,
thrusting at the sides,
and gnawing at the wires
with its sharp, tiny teeth.
Attempting the impossible:
to cut the wires and get out.

He admired but laughed.
It was a raw mouse, perhaps.

The struggle inside the trap
lasted quite a while,
but it died out
gradually....
It gave in to the
inevitable;
and He felt bad.

As he opened the trap,
it didn't jump to its freedom,
as he had expected;
rather,
it sat in the corner of the trap,
perhaps loving it better than the freedom,
or the possibility of another struggle,
safe and secure in the niche;
He had to force it out,
the poor creature,
the tamed mouse.

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"You interpret my heart, my nature, as you wish to believe it. In truth, I have no secret longing to be saved from myself." (Eugene Onegin – Alexander Pushkin)