Again I wake up in the morning:
The weather’s fine, the sun – all day…
But where’s the dream? the sleep?
I’m going
Through distance – to the point of rays…
There – the sun… so high and gleaming…
I can’t look straight on a dazzling light…
But when I sleep: where am I living?
I see there also the sun sometimes…
Perhaps, the dark in dream – is stronger,
Than light, and my thoughts dither
In some unknown, unsubstantial ocean…
Only when I wake up – world is real…
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