In this world, I just passerby,
You Makhno me merry hand.
In the autumn months too
light caressing, this quiet.
The first time I was on the month greyus,
For the first time from the chill warmed,
Again, and I live and hope
of love, which is no more.
It made our plains,
Salted sand underwear,
And then crumpled whose innocence,
And someone native wistfulness.
That's why I will not hide forever,
What's not to love alone, not apart -
We are one with you lyubovyu
This home has led.
13 September 1925