You said: “I’ll go to another country, another shore,
find another city better than this one.
All I’ve ever tried to do was doomed to fail,
and my heart is like a body dead and buried.
How long can I let my mind wither in this place?
Wherever I look, wherever I turn my eyes
I see only the black ruins of my life, here,
where so many years I spent and wrecked and wasted.”
You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
The city will follow you. In these same streets
you’ll walk, and in these same neighborhoods grow old,
turn gray in these same houses.
You’ll always arrive in this city. Don’t hope for another:
for you there is no ship, there is no road.
As you’ve destroyed your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere else in the world.