Hello to you from cloudy St. Petersburg's squere.
It's damp and rainy here, but You've a hotly.
We never saw with you, but we will meet, definitely.
It'll on the streets our metropolis, - Moskow.
I will remember that day, I will draw it in my memory.
That morning we will wander together along the Arbat avenue,
We will listen the musicians, dance until somebody drops on the knee.
We will see how the clock goes on the main tower of the city. These moves will fast, faster and so fastly how it can be.
You will hardly believe what is happening when at the same moment they beat off the bits with your name.
By the way, without your: “Hi. Hello. I forgot about you... vainly" -
So I feel a dullness, fog and melancholy. In general, here isn't the best weather. But how are you doing? Let's tell me.
Did you get on well? Do you often wander by the sidewalks alone or together with him now?
Hmm… Moscow… I’m a little thinking dreamly. So, the capital city is not enough for you?? Where are your paths laid down by? Are they like infinity?
How far will they be? I will pray for your success hopely.
Wherever you are, be sure to write me. Don’t forget! I’m feeling myself like Pushkin or Dostoevsky. And they fell the prison hardships hately.
I ask You: be careful. Watch it. Don't forget me. There is the author of those lines in the swamps of the Northern capital city. That lines you read gladly and free.
by Artem Miachin
12 August 2016(with author changes in December of 2022)
Artem.Miachin 