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
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