My thoughts were stuck together, caked in silence.
And there is no dawn in my window.
Where does all this go?
There, in a secret corner, at the bottom,
in a long-forbidden depth
still lurking and teasing -
that, (how stupid it is, not for me at all!),
that, (funny, isn't it? "you're right.),
the one that makes you sleep so hard.
The bottomless night is used to comfort,
sleepless night – to be sarcastic and to reproach,
explaining how ridiculous, ridiculous...
But when tired of overcoming,
and, humbling, sorrowfully yawn,
peering into the dead light of the Windows, -
one that is neither to accept, nor to banish,
melting and interfering with everything to decide,
suddenly she plunged into a hot, hot, shameless sleep.