Insomnia. Homer. Taut sails.
I read the list of ships until the middle:
, This long brood, this train cranes,
With over Greece once stood.

As flying geese in other people’s lines —
In the minds of kings divine foam —
Where do you sail? If it was not Helen,
What you a Troy, Achaeans?

And the sea, and Homer – everything moves love.
Whom to listen to me? And Homer is silent,
And the Black Sea,  noisy
And with a heavy crash suited to the head.