Island of lost ships (№ 344260)

Europe, you're so provincial,
Not here are not singing,
Soul bored instantly
Capitals toy your comfort.
- My soul nothing tired
Nor thy voice of another, nor beauty,
Though my wife insisted and then,
I'm not the same and the life we have neither one.
Oh, if not love in the fate of human
The boring would it would be followed by anguish.