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Past one o'clock. Most likely you're in bed.
The Milky Way spreads silver through the night.
I'm in no hurry. I have no cause
to stir or startle you with lightning telegrams.
As they say, the incident is over.
Love's boat has smashed against our daily lives.
You and I are through. Why balance out
the mutual waste and pain, the old affronts?
Look, what peace descends upon the world!
Night has filled the sky with a praise of stars.
At such a time one rises to converse
with centuries, history, and all creation.

(Vladimir Mayakovsky)

 

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