In sanatorium
Endless highway
Our bus, arguing with the wind,
Somewhere in the middle lane.
A lot of snow, sky, sun.
Air, even in chunks!
It ripens in green pines.
Sweet, cheerful, transparent, fresh...
Going for a walk, to dream,-
"I wish I could live here all winter."
But I'm afraid I'll get bored,
It's sad to drink water for a long time.
Where are you, my favorite city,
Endless highway.
I have grown irreparably
To our middle lane.
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