I was locked by my memory in the place
Among the corridors where thoughts go round in circles:

I’m standing in the smoky room near the amber curtains,
And observing the man moving in space.

But I’m not there. Having stubbed out the cigarette,
He’s walking away, slowly fading

The first flashback – where I am a lonely kid;
And where I’m nineteen and I’m late – the second.

What the warm days we had! I remember your voice;
I still keep it in mind (now I can’t make a record).

The pigeons come closer to get a reward,
I put these thoughts down to brake them.

*

среди коридоров меня бросила память,
где все мои мысли ходят по кругу:

я в задымленной комнате стою возле кресла
и наблюдаю за человеком в каждой точке пространства.

но там меня нет. потушив сигарету,
он встает и уходит, размываясь в замедленном кадре.

вот восьмой этаж и я иду в школу.
вот четвертый этаж, где мне девятнадцать.

бывали же дни! я помню твой голос.
всё держу в голове, не успела – на пленку.

с квадрата двора разлетаются птицы,
а слова – в пустоту, в бесконечность, по кругу.

Banks super lives, super-way, any union folded web of life,
conceal slights, only if we deliver the Arachnoweave Amoeba
in the ear of the Nordic ghost. The magic does not silence more
pro spirit, pro livelihoods rotating wheel terrified, provided the wheels of more to come, beyond, carried on tireless arms, washing the shoulders of my Maximus, along with its Grandfa Bernardino, with soap detergent on its soothing back, slipping his eternal dilatant lives ... while I moisten the cloth in water from your derogate juice Violin bilge her new life ahead. Coax, beings who now they mess up good news this spring. Makeup oils in their faces, multipole smiles, high orbits both love you, about back again,

Work hard in defining access mechanisms, and the answer to this question is implicit in the submissive book, lignum passed here concludes dyslexic and putrid for many  feces on your gums !!! . The Faltering history shows that new developments that were unimaginable arise every day.

One or two generations before, and they are supported by all desiccated knowledge, tribal smoke signals or Bosca Stove in my lotus mind ...?, from the Tungus to the Mapuches Indians, speaking alone with such rage at the edge of each split hill, chemistry beautiful tree or river, who would like charmed life well made., falling prostrate with his dry lips, both parties pray to the life pattern and Earth for a dignified life.,

Utterance: Proverb by Default is flashing words of luminance beings, nothing encoding, it is only a proverbial asthma magical literary wanderings the illiterate time, whose purpose is to propose ranges of understanding, achieving suppress oxygenation even in the art of live. By transposing for new paths excelsus poetry, to deploy new signs and indications of communications prophetic.