The fruits of uncharted passion,
Fruits bleakest years
Torment my soul apart,
Tremble desire words…
ABOUT, These welcome speeches
The young soul shore
Prior to the first friend, see you
With some celestial soul…
Maybe, a true friend
Minute substitute for passion,
Comes a whiff of the south, –
In consonance soul departs…
And in these distant harmonies
I hear the voice of the former
excitement, torment sad
Mad young soul…
2 September 1899
Petersburg
