White Nights. St. Petersburg.

I will be there one day. And then find this post and smile.

It's after one, and you must be in bed. Uncurbed,
The Milky Way flows through the night, a silver stream.
No telegrams, a thunderbolt each one: I'll not disturb
You, that's a promise. Sleep and have your dreams.
It's over. Period. The love boat's smashed
Against the reefs of day-to-day existence.
We're quits, so why keep score of all the rash
Things said and done with such perverse insistence!
How still the world is! See? Night from the skies
Exacts a tribute: stars. Filled with elation,
It's then one wants to rise-rise and address
Time, time and history, and all creation...
-Vladimir Mayakovskiy, 1930