Do not look at me reproachfully,
I have contempt for you do not melt,
But I love your pack languishing
And sly gentleness your.
Yes, you seem to me to prostrate,
AND, perhaps, I'm glad to see,
like a fox, Feign Death,
Catches ravens and crows.
Well, and what, catches, I do not strushu.
Just like your zeal is not extinguished?
In my life ohladevshuyu
Stumbled as often.
Do not I love you, expensive,
You are only an echo, only just a shadow.
I dream in the face of your other,
Whose eyes - goluben.
Though she does not look meek
AND, perhaps, in view of the cold,
But it is majestic gait
I stirred my soul to the bottom.
Here are a just eh otumanish,
And you do not want to go, let go,
Well, and you're not even in the heart of Vranje
Napoennuyu affection lie.
But all the same, you despise,
I sheepishly opened forever:
If it were not heaven and hell,
They would have invented the man himself.
1 December 1925