Baku

Baku.
Wind city.
Sand spits in the eyes.
Baku.
City of fires.
Polishing Balakhan.
Baku.
Leaves - soot.
Branches - wires.
Baku.
Streams -
oil ink.
Baku.
Flat houses.
Humpbacked people.
Baku.
No one settles for fun.
Baku.
Grease stain in the jacket of the world.
Baku.
Mud tank,
but to you
i reach
любовью
more -
what attracts the dervish tibet,
Mecca - the orthodox,
Jerusalem -
Christian
on the mantis.
According to you
sigh machines
billions
pistons and wheels.
Kiss
and again
kiss T, without subsiding,
oil,
oil,
quiet
and vzasos.
The will of the city
resist not daring,
chain of cohesive bodies
cling
to Baku
dutifully
even snakes
wriggling tanks.
If in the future
hard to believe -
this is because,
what's to the brim
pouring out
capitals in the heart
black
бакинская
thick blood.

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Vladimir Mayakovsky
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