On such a fancy fur-tree,
On children, playing gay,
An angel made from sugary
Looks through a closed-door crack.
And nurse is heating furnace,
The fire burns lightly, chirring...
But angel melts. It's - german.
He doesn't feel pain, but warmth.
At first his wings melt down,
His head falls back at once,
The sugar feet are broken,
Lie in the sweet pool now...
Then pool had dried... The missy
Is searching hard - no one...
And deaf is the old nurse, she easily
Forgets of all, but grumbles...
So melt the fragile creatures,
Break, die, as the thawing dreams
Under the flame of Being,
Of the everyday vanity!
So! Die! What purpose are you made for?
Let only a naughty girl drops
All her bitter tears alone -
The soul, living on earth...
25 nov 1909