There is a kind of sad unfeeling
In every drinker's happy smile.
As if his soul, sad and peeling,
Disrupts away. Deleted file...
The twinkling eyes, constantly rheumy,
And sweaty brow - cold sweat…
A drinker's life. Balloon, half-pneumy
The gas is leaking, near is the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem