Weary souls suddenly surrenders,
Looking at the bosom of the last days,
That life belittling laughs
Reflection over their shadows;
Look at those memories, –
And recoil, and freeze,
Sensing meager Desire
Discard life past oppression…
But those desires - not alive,
And there is the same sincerity
There, where so dull, ugly
decayed life, pogasnul light…
6 January 1900
