You tend to close your eyes to truth, beauty and goodness because they give no scope to your sense of the ridiculous.
The celebrations Of secret nonmeetings are empty, Unspoken conversations, Unuttered words. Glances that don't intersect Don't know where to come to rest. And only the tears rejoice Because they can flow and flow. Sweetbrier around Moscow, Alas! Somehow it is here. . . And all this they will call Love eternal.