Winter carols drowning in the fog, leaving an unforgettable euphoria in the memory of the streets. Its cold corners are full of silence, so I freeze in my dream like an old forest tree. there the sound bends, fading into wide space. Not for the word but to fall in the mud. Miserable ships pierce my ears. Those flowers move away, vomit eternal pain, bequeathed by generations and dreams. The tales of civilization drown in the ocean. It was said that the sea water, including bracelets and dates, was devoured by flies in a captivating moment, and its stomach became warm springs. The heart of the world retires as a widow. There is no place for human dreams. No warmth and no anthem. The ears of wheat bare her legs, she bowed in shame, and there was nothing in her heads but heavy air. Yes, sunset has a thousand songs, of which the peasants know nothing. The years are trembling, the skin of which has been eaten by children, so there is no space left for man to accommodate his smile. No, it is very false to accuse the body of the sins of humanity, for love of the moon does not need the blood of nature. I can only mourn. And not for the precious civilization, but to be fed up with every yellow drop in the ocean. The sun has a radiance that makes the trees static poems that know nothing about eternity. This is how civilization lies, multiplying in veins left by bells, extending along an old street, snowed by the lack of walkers. There is a cool smile. It trembles like an ostrich whose head is multiplying under the ground. In her ears, thorns and the hungry grow. Blood fills the streams, devours the veins of the trees, and the dream vanishes like a emaciated cow. No, the farmer's heart knows no lie. The city coughs, vomits camels, makes guns and dark bodies out of children's toys. Women elongate, swell with sound. Civilization coughs, invents the history of tears. No, beauty is something else. Everything revolves mercilessly, even the flowers have turned pale, the sidewalks vomit the dead, the cells of her head rot, in her arms the devil explodes like a bomb - there and coldly - killing the sun.
