She lived alone in her own separate world,

She was smart, quite beyond her years,

And the world around her – it was much wider,

Than three windows to the West and sting in the evenings.

He also lived somewhere and thought he was smarter,

He also knew something without knowing anything,

He loved her so much – she was lighter,

Than the ten thousand Suns that shone for him.

And ten thousand moons have not yet been reflected

What he didn't understand then,

He was somewhere, too. She lived in an apartment,

And the door was to heaven, and the stairs to the basement.

When he came, he did not count the steps,

Took off and died of happiness to see the Light,

She was nice, he was a regular genius,

An artist, a musician, and maybe a poet.

She was like that, which does not happen,

She was a Dream and the meaning of being,

She was a Star, and he walked on the edge

And he didn't like his other self very much.

They could fly together, but they didn't,

They could have lived for a hundred billion years,

They could love, but they didn't know much,

They were able to find the only answer.

She went into the fog, and he went