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Letter

Ah, Katya. You would know how difficult a lonely male path. I would like to finish cognac at once and go into a silver, crispy frost nothing outside the window. But tomorrow to work. <...> I have no one to talk to here. (C) Houston

Dear Pasha, hello. This is just me.

Sleeing envelopes without addresses at once in all ends.

I am simple and mediocre, like three kopecks, like three rubles,

And I can't write. And tea on the table cooled down.

The glasses are knocked out, you know, winter is now strong.

There are fewer words, and the cough torments the chest.

If you hadn't written me, I would have died a long time ago

It is difficult to sigh without love in this city.

Tell me how to live? Do you, dear, do not know

As the old man shuffles around the room.

How the ink end at midnight, and there is no one to sleep with,

They say that no one is used to loneliness.

They say that spring will come to this city soon.

I do not know, I don’t remember the devil, nor names.

And outside our window, look, one for two country,

And one for two endless dreams of sleep.

Checking the notebooks is no longer enough strength,

To be a teacher, you know, fashionable, but useless.

How cold is it here, Pasha. I cooled on the table.

He always cools intact closer to the morning.

And in the morning half will not remember, memory - rubbish.

So, smiles over the years are already becoming shoulders,

Views - firmly, wrinkles - deeper, dry - larynx,

And pursuit of happiness replaces fatigue, desire to lie down

And to sleep so half a life, unlimited, barely breathing,

Without any dreams, insensible to continue

Do not go to work, do not see what they are teeming

The headings of the newspapers froze by the common fate.

Why, after joyful days, only wine remains,

And of all the episodes of life, one will be remembered

From whom I would get rid of, Pasha, but couldn't?

The cough seemed to exterminate everything inside.

...

I set fire to Luchin. I don’t know what to write about.

Do not go outside the window - catch a cold, looking around.

Draise cognac and go to bed rather.

They say it helps.

But you never know what they say.