June 20th, 2017

Here's again the window, where nobody sleep

Today I read a poem by Marina Tsvetaeva (a Russian poet) which started like this:

Here's again the window,
Where nobody sleep.
Maybe they're drinking wine, or
Maybe they're simply sitting.
Or maybe they two can't break
The union of their hands.

Then I decided to go to my photos and find the first photo with a window in it. It turned out to be this one, taken in Singapore:



I wonder what would that poem have turned out like if she had been looking at these. Would it have been much different or pretty much the same?
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