When nothing's left, but hope,
I hope myself to Thee, -
an empty envelope,
no addressee,
no stamps, no sender's name, -
'twill last me to my last, against the blame,
and perjury, and everything that kind
and noble people cherish in the mind.
Yes, I shall perish, poetry's not fit
to hope my soul back into wit.
27 сентября 2016 г.