I think I'm over you,
But, exhausted by divination,
I look in your eyes sometimes
And I see the flame of rock.
Or great happened,
And you keep the covenant times
AND, illumined, took refuge
By the breath of tribes?
But I, pokorstvuya Zara,
Know, keep the holy covenant.
Do not leave me in the fog
Your initial years.
It lays a curse between us,
But, in real perseverance,
Open flame akin
Under its poor appearance.
27 August 1901
