Not in the black veil of Saint-Cyr's convent
Not in the old man's whispers under the melon shed
Not in the editor's wastebasket
No! Not in your eyes
Nor in the nursery rhymes of childhood
Nor in the rustling locust leaves
You can’t find it in the calm water splash
You can’t find it in the half cup of spring mash
You can’t find it in the breasts of the charming women in the bus
Where are the snowflakes at night? What about the snowflakes outside the window?
No.
Not in the beggar's frozen neck
In the rich man's sleepy yawn
Not in a grain of sand
Not in a grain of sand On the petals
It is not on a page of the Bible
It is not an article of the Constitution
It does not hate a boat on the river
Nor I don’t like a few stars in the wilderness
It also has the emptiness of long summer leisure
It also has the flavor of infatuation
Love at first sight is its principle< /p>
No one knows about principles and who they are
No need to ask poetic questions
It is not just any part of the goatee
It is not a line of a beautiful poem
Its existence is just a spectator tag: poetry