To O.A. Glebova-Sudeikina
As you stare at the wall, what is catching your eye,
In the hour, when sunset still hangs in the sky?
A gull on the blue tablecloth of the sea,
Or is it Florentine gardens, is that what you see?
Perhaps the Tsar’s Village, with its enormous old park,
Where worry had crossed your path in the dark?
Or, down by your knees, the one who has left
And broke off your spell in exchange for white death?
No, I see just the wall – and reflected on it,
The flickering flames of the sky barely lit.
1913-01-01