I’m drawing on the windowpane
Your bright eyes like two sharp arrows.
I’m playing in the rain
The soft tunes of pipes and gutters.
I will build the Kizhi Pogost1
Using matches for the wood.
I will soar up over Cologne2,
Through the ceiling if I could.
I’m drawing on the windowpane,
With the empty walls around us.
I’m leaving in the sand -
The perfected lines of stanzas.
I'm coloring all my dreams,
In the clouds I fly in loops.
And, oh gosh, it seems,
Seems that I’m just a fool.
Why shed tears when you are joyful?
Tears bring sorrows, tears are oceans.
But a stream of happy thoughts
Runs through sand until it’s lost.
I’m drawing on the windowpane
I’m self-arguing aloud.
In vino veritas today:
Truth is something to be proud.
A cuckoo birdie falls asleep.
Maybe lately,
Maybe sooner.
There are no brakes to stop the future.
There are no wings inside the sleeves.
With the desert sun so ardent
Dried the creek of happiness.
I’m alone in my apartment,
With a ceiling above the skies.
1. A 17th century Russian landmark, consisting of two churches (with 9 and 22 domes consequently) and a bell-tower. It was built exclusively of wood, without the use of nails. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kizhi_Pogost2. Paris is in the original