Neon lights, car noise,
And the lights are thrown like a net
The sound of tires braking on the asphalt.
Sweeps to the pier pedestrian branch.
Goes to sleep, hard worker my city,
I look at the Windows - they go out one after the other,
Earlier it gets dark, still in winter,-
December cut off autumn like a plow.
Pulls smoke and the smell of barbecue,
Though silence in cafes and restaurants,
It took their time-to rest for now,
I am glad, glad that I did not see counter, & nbsp; drunk.
Then the door will slam and heels will knock,
The life of the city and at night the pulse of a beating,
Everyday workaholic, very difficult,
Here and there the noise will break through.
Let the city rest, deserved,
And stop breathing is not necessary,
And the old-timers get used to the noise,
And that's why he's making plans for tomorrow.
And the night will pass, the trumpet calls to the campaign,
Spun, in traffic and traffic jams,
And will gain, our city full speed,
In daylight, in high-rises and boxes.
Like an anthill, working, scurrying,
Like the Shuttle of a busy seamstress,
In different ways the city sings,
There are songs for the soul, so as not to creak...
02-01-2020god.