You pass without a smile,
lowered lashes,
And in the darkness of the cathedral
Golden dome.
How your face looks like
On the evening of the Virgin,
lowering the eyelashes,
Vanishing in the mist…
But with you is kinky
Meek boy in the white hat,
You're the handle,
Do not give it to fall.
I stand in the shadow of the portal,
There, where the wind blows sharp,
was covered with tears
eyestrain.
I suddenly want to go out
And cry: "The Virgin!
Why in my black city
You brought Baby?»
But the language is powerless to shout.
you walk. For you
Over the sacred footprints
Resting blue gloom.
And I look, recollecting,
How lowered lashes,
How's your boy in the white hat
I smiled at you.
29 October 1905
