You look in the eyes clear zoryam,
The city puts lights,
And it smells of the sea lanes,
Sing factory whistles.
And in the hectic invincible
mist soul betrayed…
Here the red cloak, flying past,
That's a woman's voice, as a string.
And your thoughts are not bold,
As the folds of modern chasubles…
And the woman lashes-boom
So often lowered down.
Whom you saw in the slippery mist?
Whose windows shine through the fog?
There restaurant, as temples, bright,
And the temple is open, restaurant…
At hopeless cheats
Soul in vain rushed:
And the eyes of virgins, and restaurants
Turn off all - at the appointed hour.
December 1906
