1
All day, like a day: small works executed
And petty worries.
Their procession past the tired eyes
unnecessary swims.
worried, - and in the depths of humility:
Do not burn out - and let.
At the bottom of your soul, bleak and black,
Disbelief and sadness.
I othlynet fiancee to dinner
Your daily worries.
When will a frosty darkness zasmotritsya capital,
And midnight crow, –
And be glad you sleep, but - terrible moment!
Amid all the other thoughts -
Meaninglessness of all cases, bezradostnost uyuta
Will come to your mind.
And quiet longing so gently compress the throat:
neither gasp, no breath,
As if the night stretched on all the curse,
Devil himself sat on the chest!
You jump up and running to the streets deaf,
But no one to help:
Wherever you turn around, - Looking into the eyes empty
And escorts - night.
There - the wind over you in drafts prostonet
Until pale morning;
policeman, to stay awake, otgonit
Tramp from the fire…
AND, finally, the desire of fatigue,
And it will still…
What? Conscience? true? Life? What a little!
Well, Is not it funny?
11 February 1914
