My mother
Have fun at the big Feast,
I returned home late;
Quiet night wandering around the apartment,
Keeping my cozy corner.
All merged entity, all offenses
In person, in one spot;
And the wind sings in the night box
Tunes carotid requiem…
Only my seducer does not sleep;
He flattering whispers: "Here's your skit.
Forget about time, about vulgar
And in the sacred songs of the past lie ".
6 January 1912
