Night. Street. Lamppost. Drugstore. Meaningless and dreary light. May live twenty five years more. No escape. The things shall always be like that. Die, start again all over And everything of old repeats: Night, cold ripples on the canal water Lampposts, drugstores and dreary streets. Translated by Emil Sharafutdinov (Emil S. on allpoetry)SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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