About valor, the exploits of, about glory
I forgot to bitter earth,
When your face in a simple frame
In front of me was shining on the table.
But the hour has come, and you left the house.
I threw in the night cherished ring.
You gave her a different fate,
And I forgot the beautiful face.
The days flew by, spinning accursed swarm…
Wine and passion tormented my life…
And I thought of you before the lectern,
And I call you, as his youth…
I called you, but you do not look back,
I shed tears, but you do not condescend.
You're in a blue cloak wrapped sad,
In crude night you went out of the house.
I do not know, where shelter for your pride
You, Pretty, you, gentle, I found…
I sleep soundly, I dream your blue raincoat,
In which you are in the damp night gone…
I do not dream of tenderness, about glory,
All Passing, youth is gone!
Your face in its simple frame
I removed his hand from the table.
30 December 1908
