Illusions have abandoned me.
That s how women grow cold on us,
Going to pauper habitations –
Substitutions of Paradise -
Still retaining some heat in their hearts.
Illusions have abandoned my home,
As guests who leave when day is breaking.
They used to be dear to me when young,
When at festive table.
No more illusions! There was a noisy firework,
Youth smashed crockery: good luck!
But here comes the Reason – to manage me,
To reject all the fantasies as unnecessary.
I believed in illusions for too long.
I saw them sadly to the door,
I said only:
There you go!
But put the key within easy reach…
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