TO. M. WITH.
I dreamed of you again, in flowers, on a noisy stage,
madwoman, as a passion, calm, like a dream,
And I, throw, I bend their knees,
And I thought: "Happiness is there, I again conquered!»
Notes, Ophelia, I looked at Hamlet
without happiness, without love, goddess of beauty,
A rose fell to poor poet,
And with roses showered, poured his dreams…
You are dead, all in pink light,
With flowers on the chest, with flowers on curls,
And I stood in your fragrance,
With flowers on the chest, the goals, in the hands…
23 December 1898
