Open waxworks sad
One, and the other third year.
A crowd of drunken and insolent
a hurry… The queen is waiting for the coffin.
It lies in a coffin of glass,
And not dead and not alive,
And people whisper unceasingly
About her shameless words.
She stretched lazily -
ever forget, sleep forever…
snake easily, unhurriedly
She stings a wax his chest…
I myself, shameful and corrupt,
With the blue circles around the eyes,
Come take a look at the profile of an important,
on wax, outdoor parade…
You consider each,
But, if yours was not the coffin is empty,
I have heard more than once
Haughty sigh decayed mouth:
"I burn incense. flowers Scatter.
I immemorial centuries
Was queen of Egypt.
Now - I wax. I ashes. I dust ".
"Queen! I plenen you!
I was a slave in Egypt,
And now destined fate
I have to be a poet and king!
Do you see now from the grave,
that Russia, how Rome, you drunk?
What I Caesar - will both
The eyelids are equal before fate?»
silent. Look. She does not hear.
But the chest barely sways
And for the transparent fabric breathes…
And I hear the quiet words:
"Then I will rend the storm.
Now pluck burning all
In a drunken poet - tears,
In a drunken prostitute - laughter ".
16 December 1907
