Dusk, a street, a light, a drugstore,
A world without sense, and dull.
A quarter-century yet to live for —
So it shall be. Without result.
You’ll die — resume from the beginning,
And, as before, it all repeats:
Dusk, the canal’s icy ripples,
The drugstore, light, and city street.
A.A. Blok (translation by Kathy Sowa)
Posted September 17, 2009
Russia greeted me with smiling faces that no one could see.
