With your bitter tears
Above us was crying Spring.
The fire flickered over the reeds,
Razz evil horse…
Again he called inhuman,
You, Devoted to me for a long time!..
But the wind violent, wind counter
Your face is scorched…
Again - do nothing and in vain -
You was declining from fire…
Even the sky was passionately,
And the sky was for me!..
And it was all the same, what kind
Lobzatʹ mouth, caress shoulder,
In some streets the deaf
Daring to drive a cab…
And still, whose breath, whose whisper, –
May be, here you are not already…
Only horse uneven tramping,
As if from a distant height…
So - brought to mind instantly -
We were given again and again,
Proud of his destruction,
your vicissitudes, love!
Now, when I was the star closer,
Than the violent night,
When still immensely below
you fell, daughter humiliation,
When one with himself
I curse every day, –
Now it goes before me
Your dethroned shadow…
with favor? Ile reproachfully?
Or hating, mstya, starches?
Or you want to be my sentence? –
I do not know: I forgot you.
20 November 1908
