O Christ and God, I thirst for a miracle
At this day's dawn. Now, let such be!
O let me die while all existence
Is opening like a book for me.

You're wise. You will not say severely:
'Be calm. Your time is not yet up!'
You Yourself gave to me, O, too much!
I thirst for all roads - in one cup.

I want all things: the soul of gypsies -
To walk with songs and rob someone.
To hurt for all midst organ-playing.
To rush to war - an Amazon.

To read the stars from some black tower.
To lead-small children through the lane...
So yesterday would be a legend,
So every day would be insane!

I like a cross and silks and helmets.
My soul's a trace of moments seen...
You gave me youth - fairer than fable,
So give me death - at seventeen!

26 September 1909, Tarusa