An art's a burden on the shoulders,
But we - the poets - are highly estimating
The life in its such fleeting small things!
How sweet is to become quite lazy,
To feel, how in the veins a blood
Is flowing with a melodious sound,
To feel the love, which turns you burning
Behind the fleeting cloud,
And then to dream about life
To be as if in a champagne flashing,
In a murmuring tender crackling
Of a blinkling fastly cinema!
And after a year - in the alien place:
You feel quite tired, town is unknown,
The crowd, - but... again on canvas
The features of the French nice girl!..
June 1909!
Foligno