In the hot summer and in the winter blizzard,
In the days of your weddings, celebrations, funeral,
I am waiting for, so scared my deadly boredom
Light, hitherto not heard the sound.
Here it is - there was. And with the cold attention
I am waiting for, to understand, consolidate and kill.
And before my watchful waiting
Pulls it hardly noticeable thread.
On whether the vortex sea? Or Syrian paradise
The leaves are singing? Or time costs?
Or showered apple May
Snow color? Or an angel flying?
last hours, global carriers.
spreading sounds, movement and light.
Past passionately looking into the future.
None of this. Pathetic - no.
AND, finally, at the limit of conception
new soul, unknown forces, –
soul slays, thunderstruck, a curse:
Creative minds mastered - killed.
And closes the cold cell I
light, good bird free,
poultry, who wanted to carry out the death,
poultry, flying save life.
Here's my cell - steel, severe,
As gold, evening fire.
Here is my bird, when something cheerful,
hoop shakes, sings on the window.
wings clipped, songs zauchenы.
Do you like to stand at the window?
Songs you like. I, exhausted,
New forward - and I miss again.
12 December 1913
