вокзалы менять как перчатки тебя искать между строчек...

stations change like gloves
look for you between the lines
from Peter to Kamchatka
from capital letters to dots

in the compartment meeting the sunrises
smoking opening windows
fist pinching tickets
and drinking tea on a spoon

and sadness catching up drop by drop
considering yourself lonely
twist performances in my head
and keep books side by side

my bags are tired
and they would come back
they are like me in sorrow
in sorrow forty

and somehow in Odessa in the evening
on the noisy peron of the station
there was a spontaneous meeting
you were looking for someone too

and your bags too
stood elastically on the sidelines
___
and we touched the worlds
Hi
my stranger

Kostya Kramar