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Forced unevenness of roofs flows over the horizon
Seventeenths Quarter, Paris. The umbrella is barely quivering
And the French woman, serious and sweet
Hastens through the dim morning, must have overslept.
And those who meet her a narrow little street,
Won't guess - everyone has their own worries here -
She, though former, but a Russian subject
She is the same Muscovite as she was
Former Russian subject's apartment is a mess
That means something's wrong in her soul as well
But how light her words are, and though her sleep's uneasy
At least "Stolichnaya" doesn't leave a hangover in the morning
And remembering the dream about Arbat yards,
She submerges in her routine, like in a river
And, despite a horrid mood,
She is the same Muscovite as she was
Africans are selling Chestnuts at Place de la Concorde,
Wonders through a firework of lamps a snow-free New Year
And Parisians, thinking of their own, hurry
And Christmas, again together with a friend from the States
Festive Paris pours the French wine,
And she dreams of Moscow full-white
She drinks ***, as she is a Russian subject
She is the same Muscovite as she was
Festive Paris pours the French wine,
And she dreams of Moscow full-white
She, though former, but a Russian subject
She is the same Muscovite as she was