В небе облака из серой ваты Сыровато, сыровато...

Gray cotton clouds in the sky
Damp, damp
It doesn’t matter, because I’m used to it ...
In a puddle, this cotton wool gets wet
And runs worriedly
Under water is my double.

People do not even look out the window during the day
The antennas get wet in the rain
TVs are warm ...
The city exposes the sky to the roof
Pretending not to hear
Dance of drops on the glass.

Evening gives reflection light
And the apartments are dumb links
Hang over the yard ...
The wind of reflection gargles
He gropes for the square
And booing the house.

 
(c) Evgeny Klyachkin