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The City of Yes and the City of No
2003-09-11 | 8:31 p.m. I am like a train rushing for many years now between the city of Yes and the city of No. My nerves are strained like wires between the city of No and the city of Yes. Everything is deadly, everyone frightened, in the city of No. It's like a study furnished with dejection. Every morning its parquet floors are polished with bile. It's sofas are made of falsehood, its walls of misfortune. Every portrait looks out suspiciously. Every object is frowning, withholding something. You'll get lots of advice in it - like hell you will! - neither a bunch of flowers nor even a greeeting. Typewriters chatter a carbon-copy answer: "No-no-no... No-no-no... No-no-no..." And when the lights go out altogether, the ghosts in it begin their gloomy ballet. You'll get a ticket to leave - like hell you will! - to leave the black town of No. But in the town of Yes - life's like the song of a thrush. This town's without walls - just like a nest. The sky is asking you to take any star you like in your hand. Lips ask for yours, without any shame, softly murmuring: "Ah- all that nonsense..."- and daisies, teasing, are asking to be picked, and lowing herds are offering their milk, and in no one is there even a trace of suspicion, and wherever you want to be, you are instantly there, taking any train, or plane, or ship that you like. And water, faintly murmuring, whispers through the years: "Yes-yes-yes... Yes-yes-yes... Yes-yes-yes..." Only to tell the truth, it's a bit boring, at times, to be given so much, almost without any effort, in that shining multicoloured city of Yes... ---------- Better let me be tossed around to the end of my days between the city of Yes and the city of No! Let my nerves be strained like wires between the city of No, and the city of Yes!
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