My soul is quiet. The taut string
It sounds a gust, healthy and beautiful,
And pouring my voice thoughtfully and passionately,
The sights and sounds are extinguished, drowning in heaven…
One only has a chord, fostered by bad weather,
Its in my heart I vaguely shore
And sad to think: "Can it be true, I can not
To share with you your happiness?»
You're not exhausted Spiritual storm,
You do not know, that there are unhappy in the world,
Which will give for the life of a fleeting breath,
That bored this God,
And you - God alone in the dreams of a passionate night,
omnipotent, delightful, immense and alive…
19 October 1898
St. Petersburg
