осень опять надевается с рукавов, электризует волосы -...

autumn is worn again from the sleeves,
electrifies hair - the collar is narrow.
my boy, I hope you are healthy
and take care of too much stress.
the world puts you in a book of fragrant words,
and in the speakers, new music.

the city is thin after the summer,
chilly, like seven in the morning after a party.
nothing moves, not even smoke;
only birds under the sky swim like tea leaves
and a passerby laughs with steam, already gray-haired.

you had hands with an intricate map of veins,
hot laughter and a short scar on the chin.
the lighthouses looked at us pleadingly, like orphans,
the sea was splashing like butter in a pan
smelled of dark wines from taverns;

so the wasp, having killed, is held in their fingers - "sting. sting."
so gobbled up from the cinema.
so autumn enters - always from the orchestra, like Frank Sinatra.

someone remembers us together. for the sake of such a frame
nothing,
nothing,
nothing sorry.