I saw your picture on the screen
And think: your age about sixteen
I read your, Summer, pretty name
And flash was glowed in my brain

Your loneliness… I know this thing…
It's hard to feel and hard to rid
With dancing you will handle it
But I will not... Suppose we've never meet… (было: But I am not – suppose we've never meet…)

Los Angeles and Omsk – too heavy distance
For hopeless, in absentia love…