I fall the way all down and down.
I'm dying. All fed up.
And the dance of drops up high into the air.
To someone - everything. To someone-nothing.
Hope. Fairy- tale. Just a lie.
To spend this life.
And probably it can be fixed.
No. Not in this life. And not to me.
A candle burned. I lead a lesson.
About life. About what the needs the person has.
But generally, I have no interest.
* It's a translation of the same poetry "Набережная"
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