Boris Red. (№ 374755)

I thought as a child: grow big -
and fear and pain will vanish like smoke.
And I see an important reason,
when it becomes thinner web.
I thought as a child: grow up with me
and wiser world my dear.
And angels, sitting in a semicircle,
talk with me and with each other.
A hundred years ago. And I look out the window.
There the beggar is drinking the autumn wine
that casts an ugly sheen.
... And to say I have nothing and no one.