I didn't call you - you yourself
came.
Every night - the smell of mint,
A month and a narrow gap-toothed,
Silence and darkness.
Like a month rose from distances,
You've come
The light fabric, without sandaliy,
Over the shoulders trembled
Two wings.
On the grass, only primyatoy,
ghost.
The fresh smell of wild mint,
lifeless, bluish
night light.
I live next to you,
Dreamily.
And live under the pale eyes
long night,
Like a month there, of the garden,
Looking into the eyes
silence.
7 December 1908
