Wet summer. I'm laying
In bed - sick. Something looms
Hot and burning in the chest.
And on the estate, in the light of the night tényah,
Dogs barking worn round the house.
And between his - I do not own. between the blood
Beskroven - and do not know the feelings of kinship.
And the people am sick little
only less, what killed me the mosquito.
And candles lit for a long time
The place in the book, where Professor boring,
As whining mosquito, - singing in my ears,
Woman have depressed
And because similar fate with the working.
Wait a minute! That's portrait: gray-haired professor
Sleek, washed by, thirty five
Publication of the book issuing! Stay!
You say, that oppressed worker?
billeting: spring I saw the brave,
working, who bravely to death
Go - and with him - friends. And the horns silenced,
And stop working again
In factories. And fat manufacturer
Worship at the feet of workers. - Stay!
You say, a woman - servant?
I know a woman. In her mind
There was a sheaf of fire. The walk winds.
In the eyes - the two seas of sorrow and passion.
And it was all the dust from the light -
Trembling and flexible. so here,
Professor, four elements Union
Was it a. She could kill, –
Would resurrect. Come on, (?) you
Kill, and then resurrect! Can not?
A woman worker may.
20 June 1907
