Slowly the door of the church
was I, dushoy nesvobodnaya,
Heard songs of love,
Crowds of people were praying.
Or a minute of unbelief
He sent me relief?
Often in the church door I
Now I enter without a doubt.
Fall rose evening,
fall silent, sluggishly.
I pray Superstitious,
I weep and repent excruciatingly.
17 October 1901
