Inflame secret signs
on deaf, wakeless wall.
Gold and red poppies
Me gravitate dream.
I took refuge in the caves at night
And I do not remember the harsh Wonderland.
At the dawn - blue chimera
Look in the mirror bright skies.
I am running away in the last moments of,
I close my eyes in fear,
Growing cold on the sheets of the book -
Golden maiden spit.
Above me, the sky is already low,
Black sleep tends chest.
My predestined end is near,
The war and the fire - front.
October 1902
