God! How they caress me, how your rays may cut!
Scorching my back, embracing, require: don’t keep quite!
And I just want to take it and to capture this light!
To the water a pebble – throw: I am your bard!
Just with my eyes I follow you, I run through the lines,
Take in the yellow light – no, it is the Golden ball!
It is intense and righteous, like mica, isinglass.
Is it He who protects me. Is he? I’m saved at once!
You’re hitting me – backwards! I cannot stop – I talk!
Spirit you are, trees, shutters – Want to catch you – but no!
God, you’re the Perfection! I capture Super-Life.
As well as I catch Balmont, he keeps and throws up.
Oh, I have dedicated too many poems to you.
No matter what you’re saying, Lines will explode much more.
Imperiously. Stiffly. Fatal. (Ah, Balmont – “Force”!) .
So that to live headspring – back to your streams to drop!
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