A night, a street, a lamp, a drugstore A meaningless and dismal light…


A night, a street, a lamp, a drugstore
A meaningless and dismal light
A quarter century outpours –
It’s all the same. No chance to flight.

You’d die and rise anew, begotten.
All would repeat as ever might:
The street, the icy rippled water,
The store, the lamp, the lonely night.

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