Without her, I'm not there and not here:
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There is neither earth nor heaven
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Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow.
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Between "never" and "nowhere"
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Spirit over water in the dark
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I repeat silence like a mantra;
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And no one heard my groan
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Spread in hundreds of directions
|
A song to somehow say goodbye
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Like it's a monk in yellow
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Scattered my ashes over the river,
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Ganges confused with Styx.
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Here, it seems, our story has been read from "A" to "Z" -
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In a ridiculously short swim from hell I am.
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In flight without the wings of a muse, I accelerate, falling into the abyss -
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From the wounds of the dead to crush the poison too late,
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After all, it is no longer in her spark that hissed soda in the labyrinths of veins:
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Final tunnel; |
dampness and decay; |
dark vaults.
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Unrealistic goal. |
And in the boat - already up to the knees of Styx sewage.
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The vessel does not shine stranded, and the deck roll is more and more noticeable along the way.
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But I lead my Argo - let it be my cargo cult, and everything is down the drain:
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Hope is still moving, like branded carpets,
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And the oars give birth to bursts, although the brain asserts sharply,
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That all this is a vain bespont, how to send to city text messages.
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Chilled and wet to the bone and to the thread,
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In the eyes - pain from salt, even though the groundwater is fresh;
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I care about her - like from the polar night to the Balkan spring:
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I am in these muddy waters, a settling suspension ...
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Without her, I'm not there and not here:
|
There is neither earth nor heaven
|
Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow.
|
Between "never" and "nowhere"
|
Spirit over water in the dark
|
I repeat silence like a mantra;
|
And no one heard my groan
|
Spread in hundreds of directions
|
A song to somehow say goodbye
|
Like it's a monk in yellow
|
Scattered my ashes over the river,
|
Ganges confused with Styx.
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Where were these insights before? |
Understanding the essence?
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Why not do without sinking vessels
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In these freezing waves? |
Linen cannot become whiter in fuel oil:
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Neither a wailing cry wakes her up, nor a set of rescue actions.
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Well, Mr. Master of Ceremonies?
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Does the rise of your Orphean career warm you?
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Did you jump? |
Finished? |
Listened to good arguments
|
In favor of the fact that all your past is a disturbing ballast, they say?
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Here it is - a triumph! |
It's a pity there's no one to celebrate with, is it?
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Neck bent under the weight of chains and crowns with diamonds,
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You go to the bottom - and if the Cerberus did not bark,
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You would know the silence in which the first atoms of the Universe were born.
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She's already inside - someone pressed the "mute" button
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And a cry clogged his chest, drowning him in the fact that the living do not drink.
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Now he tears the shell, like a twisted leaf - the casing of the kidney,
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Hanging bloody drops from the Eustachian tubes with earrings on the earlobes...
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Without her, I'm not there and not here:
|
There is neither earth nor heaven
|
Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow.
|
Between "never" and "nowhere"
|
Spirit over water in the dark
|
I repeat silence like a mantra;
|
And no one heard my groan
|
Spread in hundreds of directions
|
A song to somehow say goodbye
|
Like it's a monk in yellow
|
Scattered my ashes over the river,
|
Ganges confused with Styx. |