TO. M. WITH.
1
All the same expanse ozernáya,
Still dripping with salt cooling towers.
Now, when you're old and at peace,
What worried again?
Or first passion young genius
Even with the soul inseparable,
And you are forever engaged
that old, unforgettable shade?
You call me - it will come:
flicker, like before, the profile of an important,
And the voice, softly-tensile,
Words experienced whisper.
June 1909
2
In the dark the park under the alders
At the hour of midnight deaf
White swan on the oars
He buried his head in wing.
All I - Memory, all I - rumor,
Are you with me, sorrowful spirit,
I know, I see - that's your trail,
Washed storm so many years.
In the shadows of the funeral alder
I breathe sweet perfume,
The rustling leaves mat,
Rustles another soul,
But for the storm of passionate years -
All, like a ghost, everything, as delusions,
All, what happened, everything went,
The pond fog gone.
June 1909
3
When painfully rose
Before me things and days,
And a deep sleep from grief
I dozed off in the shade of the forest, –
I did not know, that the maiden in the woods
It passes the memory of the old days,
AND, Awake in the game of shadows,
I heard clearly in Peña bird:
"Hearken passions, and believe, and believe,
Call them all votes,
Knock the midnight hours
The bliss closed door!»
June 1909
