Petersburg twilight snow.
A look at the street, roses in the house…
Thoughts - just a girl tender,
And what, - and she does not understand.
All I look into my mirror sleepy…
(is he, must be, looking out the window…)
Won my face - evil, amorous!
Brother, like I'm tired of it!
Low Voice Zapevaniya,
Snow-white hands my,
My thin red hair,
How long have they started a draw!
her husband went. Light so ugly…
Yet the blood turns pink… the world…
Look, he is there or not?
And there is… brother, a nagging!
15 Martha 1914