Blessing light and shadow
And cheerful play of lirnoy,
Look there - into chaos bezmirny,
Where inclined your day.
Intact silver chain,
Your are filled with pitchers,
Almond blossoms in the bottom of the valley,
And wet heat breathes steppe.
Do you go to the house in the mountains,
The midday sun drenched;
Go - Headband gold
The tar sinks hair.
Withered flowers capers,
And the grasshopper heavier,
And on the road horror wafts,
And it grew dark, heights.
Millstones grind tired.
Fleeing frightened guards,
And everyone embraces the ghost enemy,
And dolu bend wood.
All the wild fear of crumpling.
They crowded into a pile of people, beasts.
And in vain to close the door
Hitherto gazing out the window.
24 September 1902
