A verse a long-time friend wrote for me, and I remember it as being quite beautiful, so I tried to make my own version, rhymed with the original.

On a whim, I took off — Lviv, no pause, no plan. They say being me Is a life people want.

Found a flat in a posh Little slice of the map, Free, successful designer — That’s fact, not a flaunt.

Lentils, rice, and maccheroni.

Morning runs to clear my head, And keep me in shape. The city still sleeps, While I’m out of bed.

The days just slip by And work fills my life. Days pass all the same, But that’s the game.

Saturday night, Mike and I reappear. T-shirts galore, more than I wear.

My jeans, give me the scare. Lentils, rice, and maccheroni.

Stacks of books On becoming my best, Read half-asleep, Somehow taken inside.

The point is to live With efficiency first, So there’s room for Auchan Before day turns to night —

And the wisest of choices I make: Lentils, rice, and maccheroni.

[Comment on 2026-01-28 at 22:03 EET]

The original version Nadzeja wrote for me did not pass my language filter, and while she’s so good at the language I’d appreciate and approve, we have no other version preserved right now. I’ve made it into belaruskaja łacinka, because why not, right?

Zachacielasia — i zjechaŭ u Lvoŭ,
Kazuć: być mnoju — heta šans.
Zniaŭ ja kvateru siabie znoŭ
U rajonie, dzie prestyž i balans.

Čačavica, rys i makarony.

Ranica — bieh,
Dzień — praca ŭ takt.
U subotu z Majkam vychodžu ŭ świat.
Futbolak — tryccać, štany ŭ fakt,
Čačavica, rys i makarony.

Knih pa samarostu — pełny dom,
Ja ich hłytaju noc i dzień.
Haloŭnaje — žyć z jasnym planam,
Kab paspieć u market adzin
Pa čačavicu, rys i makarony.