How long will you wait
For the train to come in?

Straining to hear the whistle
Somewhere over the hill,

When you know that it’s bound
For an entirely different station.

And what would you gain
From its arrival at the platform?

The cold faced conductor
Wouldn’t listen to you anyway,

Those in the dining car
Would only laugh and sip their wine,

And the indifferent engineer
Wouldn’t invite you on board.

You appear more alone than you really are
At that Siberian railway stop,

Letting the wind press on your shoulders
And thinking of your favorite fairy tale:

Two people understanding each other.