Fyodor Sologub. (№ 282904)

A sick heart a pleasure
The way of life to blame.
All the body wants roughly
Me the sun to penetrate,
The moon is not addressed
In the altar candle,
And all ever happened
Not the way I want.
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Who gave me the land, water,
Fire and heaven
And has not given me freedom,
And took away the miracles?