Lyrics Джей Фост - Мои предрассветные

my predawn
poem,

written on a napkin
on a kitchen tablecloth,

without a single
pronouns -

as if it were raining
over the Mountains Mountains,

as if from the thirties
jazz,

so by the way,
always so apropos

refreshing
fucking
us.

so early
you never
you do not get out of bed,

because
you appreciate your dreams
about warm rain in Kyoto,
walking along the sidewalk
as if on notes,

about the time
without change.

these verses
reverently love
the silence of your walls,
ringing,

and you,
serene sleeping.