Graphics by
Kseniia L

Poetry by
MATSUO bashō anD Alex Grots

It is deep autumn
My neighbor
How does he live, I wonder

Matsuo bashō

Along this road
Goes no one;
This autumn evening

Matsuo bashō

By lonely roads
this lonely poet marches
into autumn dusk

Matsuo bashō

We have forgotten each other.
So we meet in dreams that lie beyond
The fields of memory

Alex grots