Perestroika

The news say that it has arrived
from very far away this morning
the merciless Septembers.

The rain falls that will wet
the words I write to you
and will melt the snow of your country.

While I write you love letters.
Today I will write you love letters.

Meanwhile in the distance
there are those who want to change everything
they say that in white Russia
they are preparing a new world.

I fill blank pages, in white
blank pages with your name.

Perhaps one day your voice
will reach from the infinite
and be the wind from my country.

While I write you love letters.
Today I will write you love letters.