Whether you'll speak a round sentence
or write a wise book,
you'll always have in your head
the same emptiness and silence.
Word is a cool breeze
of a sudden wind blowing into the expanse;
it might refresh you, but
it won't help you get anywhere.
You can be deceived by the crowd marching down the streets,
or the vodka drank in a park, or the sunset,
but remember: nothing really happens
and nothing will happen - to the very end.
Whether you'll speak a round sentence
or write a wise book,
you'll always have in your head
the same emptiness and silence.
Put your trust only in these tangled lips,
incomprehensible babble,
gestures hanging in the void,
deficient.
You can be deceived by the crowd marching down the streets,
or the vodka drank in a park, or the sunset,
but remember: nothing really happens
and nothing will happen - to the very end.