перевели мое стише на английцкий

A chewed up day will turn out on the square
Stooping shoulders, someone’s sorrow.
Want some bliss? Queue up over there.
A satisfied mug in a window opposite.

A boy with a fiddle at the door on the left.
A fat sun is smoldering overhead.
Passionate fingers, sticky with sweat,
Squeeze someone. Nasty. Drives me mad.

I wish I ( Read more... )