So. Storm the years passed.
A guy trudged Furrow,
Raw and black. Above me
Again ring spring wing…
And it is terrible, and easily, and hurt;
Again spring whispers: Arise…
And I kiss pious
Its invisible fabric…
And the heart is beating too fast,
And too younger blood,
When for Tuchke legkoperoy
Through my first love…
Forget, forget about the terrible world,
shake the wing, years tuda…
Not, not the one I was on the feast!
Not, I will never forget!
14 February 1909
