I looked at the blind human structure.
Under the roof slowly ignited window.
Someone heard approaching from above
And I think about, that was long ago.
The curtains were moving and falling.
Rose from the invisible hand.
On the stairs, the shadow pryadali.
And carefully start calls.
Yet no one came to the stairs,
And hearing the account level.
And everywhere awake, shouted, waiting messenger,
And gray heads bent into the shade.
thought: for the morning one day.
Above all crying and disheveled
Under the roof of a window lit up with slowly.
There's someone on the gilt accounts
counted, that nobody can.
And I realized, it will be dark.
5 December 1902