It's easier to worship the dead than the living
It's easier to live of shadows than of suns
It's easier to mimeograph the past
Than printing the future
I don't want to be sad
Like the poet who gets older reading Mayakovsky1
In the convenience store
I don't want to be happy
Like the dog that goes for a walk
With its happy owner
Under the Sunday sun
I also don't want to be as tight
As those who build roads and don't walk
In the darkness
I want to grope, like someone blind,
Distracted stars
In the darkness
I want to grope, like someone blind,
Distracted stars
Wild berries
In the promenade
Affairs hidden
Under umbrellas
Non-stopping thunderstorms
Who doesn't have lightning rods?
Even if the train doesn't stop
I can't stop
Non-stopping thunderstorms
Who doesn't have lightning rods?
Even if the train doesn't stop
I can't stop
I see the world move
Like a samba school
Crossing the avenue
Moves around
I ask
'Where are your tambourines?'
I ask
'Where are your tambourines?'
Sat on the doorstep
Of my home
The one and only home
Where I always lived
Where I always lived
Where I always lived
1. A Soviet poet, playwright, artist, and actor