It’s time, my friend: it’s time! The heart wants rest
the days slip by, the hours take away
fragments of our life: and you and I
plan how to live and, – just like that – we die.
No happiness on earth, yet there’s freedom, peace.
I’ve long dreamt of an enviable fate –
I’ve long thought, a weary slave, to fly
to some far place of labour and true joy.
By: Alexander Pushkin
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Homeless with a Laptop, That is my Name