She sings in the chimney
Her cheerful voice is thin.
Mist doth rest on you.
Behind the door, crying your baby.
Spring! Spring! As the air is empty!
As the evening excessively lean!
Vaughn - a skinny naked willow bush -
Dull ghost long Boden.
Here evening Kuta window
Solid white shadows.
My face lit
Thy terrible eyes.
But I am not afraid to look in focus,
In the shower - thoughtlessness and carelessness!
There - swirl fire mark,
But sparks flew into eternity…
eyes burn, like two candles.
What she misses loudly?
understand. Do not pierce the baby
Mad Eye your swords.
9 April 1905
