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Sometimes I seem to muddle through somehow but English muddle cannot outline a Russian sin split in two parts, a dao divided into yin and yang, a sign of lonely hummer in the lack of sickle, a German bread without pumpernickel "Timon of Athens" in a glossy mag, enamoured Jupiter away from Io, the old good Middle West without Ohio, a suddenly inflated airbag. The Russian language differs. I stay steadfast to split my sins - an alcohol abuse, a sloth, a pride as well as bed and breakfast in half with you, my English-Russian muse. * См. перевод в комментарии 1. |
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