I swallow loneliness in bites…
Like a bone stuck in my throat…
I'm not looking for anything any more,
I'm not waiting, I don't want sentences.


I do not wander in anyone's dreams,
I do not meet the dawn with dreams…
There are no roses. For me they are thorns…


Only black stones on the ground.
Only storms without sun in the sky,
without dreams, without love, without longings…
Only weeds dry in the field,
crooked roads, dead hopes…