Arseny Alving. (№ 411122)

The mists of the Past are swiring greedily.
The past has stirred. Heart - wait!..
Now she will come and say so gloatingly:
"Only flour awaits us ahead..."
Everything, everything is now moonless, hopeless.
They sing the romance "Leave me, leave!" ...
In an empty living room, it is orderly and ceremonial
And all the cozy things were left behind...