Night, Street, Street-Light, Drugstore - Alexander Blok (10/10/1912)

A night, a street, a lamp, a drugstore

A meaningless and dismal light

A quarter century outpours –

It's all the same. No chance to flight.



You'd die and rise anew, begotten.

All would repeat as ever might:

The street, the icy rippled water,

The store, the lamp, the lonely night.