9
On the best creation of God
I tasted the power of contempt.
I hit her with a stick.
hastily dressed. leaves.
Left. 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
