Moscow Night, End of December 1934

A. Leyeles

1937

It’s hard to be clever these nights,
And useless to be modern.
Useless to smile knowingly and observe with melancholy
The language bastardisms of history:
“The government of the Republic is delivered into the hands of the Emperor.”
A nasty old moon crawls in my window
And chokes me with a cold hand.
She coughs, she foams over me:
Who do you…
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