10 July 1922

 

Your rain dulls my pain.
Beneath the collapse of shutters going to ruin
I sleep. Hooves along the trembling
Asphalt—like so much applause.
 
We were so pleased with ourselves—having met.
With our abandon, our golden-mornings.
With our veritable fairy-tale orphan status;
And you had mercy on us, you, ugly pile of buildings!

 

[Translated from the Russian by Mary Jane White]