I didn't save myself — at least you try

I didn't save myself — at least you try… Don't turn into a meek, soundless ornament… Sacrificing yourself, throwing yourself into the millstones, And hiding your wounds again, you pull your sleeves down… Hanging your wild head down to the chopping block, And so, punching holes in the asphalt, straight … off to the matchmaker. In the sacrificial rite a holy place would be found, But holy places never stay empty, poor bride… Her lights, on the wet, sunk into their sockets. Alas, those fairy-tale princes don't see them… Shedding crocodile ones, oh, my Assol, Wrong movie, and the role you got is wrong. Wrong cut, and no ovations for an encore, and the jaws of the displeased keep on clacking. If only she had time, a tiny bit, just a little… Fates crippled by imagined sand. If only she could sleep, but so there'd be no storm. Maybe then she wouldn't pander to absurd foolishness, that sometimes sends the whole train off the rails… a little time for that one single question. When, dear God, will it get a little easier and the weight of the world stop pressing into the shoulders? The trapezius aches under the cutting strap and so does the ego, after long squabbles with a loved one over a kopeck. She'll fall asleep and maybe wake, but not right away… And let her snore… O heavens, don't take your eyes off her..