You’ll come. – Why delay any more?
I’m waiting – life’s hard to endure.
For you, I have opened the door
You’ll enter, so wondrous and pure.
Take on any form, - take your pick,
Burst in like some poisonous gas,
Or creep, like a crook, with a brick,
Or like typhus, come in with a gasp,
Or a story that you simply make up,
So common, it’s making me nauseous –
I’ll see the policeman’s blue cap
And the janitor, frightened and cautious.
The Yenisey is flowing. In the skies,
The Polar Star is lit. My fate is sealed.
The sparkle of the blue beloved eyes
Is veiled by the horror’s last ordeal.
August 18th, 1939