Black blood


On the best creation of God
I tasted the power of contempt.
I hit her with a stick.

hastily dressed. leaves.
Is gone. looked puhlyvo
On my blue-gray box.

And there it. The blue-gray box
Pouring rainy night,
So what is next, behind the darkness of bad weather,
Lights glow border.

distant, moist valleys
And close, rapid happiness!
One I stand and heed
So, I sing the violin.

They sing wild songs
About tom, that I became free!
About tom, that the best share
I traded lower passion!

13 Martha 1910

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Alexander Blok
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