Go, I wander downcast,
One in its hole.
Come grinder gloomy,
He cries in the yard…
About one free share,
What I can not live,
About tom, the wind in the field,
And the yard - spring.
And I - what business?
I wander alone, forgotten.
And the candle burned down,
And the pendulum knocks.
one, one hope
There, in the window.
Svetla her clothes,
She would come to me.
And I, frowning,
She will give the umpteenth,
How many ports of blood
Friends and acquaintances.
Again, it will be sweet,
And quiet, and heat…
In the corner lamp burning,
Heart felt lighter…
Why did she come
Talk with me?
Why the needle holds
merry thread?
Why she drops
funny words?
Why would a person declines
And hiding in lace?
As cold and closely,
When she's not here!
How long is unknown,
Does flash light in the windows…
My face is whiter,
The white wall…
Again, again srobeyu,
When it comes…
After all, there is nothing to fear
And nothing to lose…
But should affect?
But can we say?
And she utter - tender?
That the heart has blossomed?
The wind blows snow?
That in light room?
7 December 1906
