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My Own Planet by Semyon Kirsanov (1906 — 1972)

My own planet, my Earth,
My globe shining through space!
By the sun’s flaming hands
You were launched on your race.

On his wheel your moist clay
He lovingly threw
And with tender caresses
Gave life unto you.

In the kilns of the cosmos
Where cosmic storms blaze
You were fired and were tempered
And coated with glaze.

When at last you were finished
And fired, shining new
The sun poured the oceans
And seas onto you.

With dawns and with sunsets
He painted you too,
Then washed you with showers
He sent from the blue

O’er the firmament wide
He then stepped aside.
Looked down on his masterpiece,
Beaming with pride.
For that globe was just perfect,
No more and no less
And the potter was happy
At such a success.

Through distant mists shining
On the planet he smiled
Then gave it to Man,
Saying: ‘Take it, my child!’

‘Take care not to break it,
For surely, I feel,
I’ll never repeat it
On my potter’s wheel!’

Painting by Nicholas Roerich (1912)

Nicholas Roerich Battle in the Heavens 1912