Ah, you thought I was like that, too,
That you can forget me
And that I would throw myself, praying and sobbing,
Under the hooves of a bay horse.
Or I'll ask the heifers
In the water of the spine
And I'll send you a terrible gift-
My cherished fragrant scarf.
Be cursed. Neither groan nor look
I do not touch the damned soul,
But I swear to you by an angelic garden,
I swear by a miraculous icon
And our nights are a fiery child-
I'll never come back to you.
July 1921, Tsarskoe Selo
Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.
