Tallinn Photographer

Yuri L.

Wander through ancient cities of the night sometimes.
I didn't break these walls, but I didn't build them.
Here each of the previous century left a mark,
And we follow the trail to the ashes of the ancestors.
Other times, other people here prints
In the stones of houses and squares. On their cobblestones
Leave something and we was our?
Or on the ancient bridge will settle the dust?
After all, how many to the sky nor grow, grow in the ground.
So for you we came here to live so for you,
So that people of future centuries in our dust
Houses piled up to the clouds?
Steep staircase to the basement, like centuries ago.
Give me a glass and pour me one:
For being the color of wine, the color of our blood.,
To those who have built these cities for centuries!