I see through my window the misty firefigures,
A woman-creature is pressed in shining fingers.
I`m dizzying slightly or more violently and hope,
That ghostly people wouldn`t speake a word…
A whisper: ”Lord…”
And hate myself for being so weak.
This trembling fear
Go slowly to my throught,
Like I see what I want,
But I don`t.
I don`t.
02.10.2003 г.