Listen to the native land in the fields:
You oveet alien stranámi,
But at a certain fear akin to embrace:
You will feel the steps, sledyashtie for loca.
ABOUT, My friend, do not run their native land,
Look: I'm waiting for the mysterious prishlitsy
And every hour I can tracking distance,
But nearly always, take in my dungeon.
13 September 1900
