Oh, I was slowly getting mad near door of someone who I wish for, And spring day was becoming bad and dark, my thirst was done a bit more. I wept, with passion I was tired And being grim I hid my crying, And I could see my doubled mind It was so morbid queer and lying. It penetrated in my soul that's already insane and quiet It flooded spring, it made a fall with soundless wave that's black and wild. Spring day was getting dark and bad, Over the grave my heart was chilling, And I was slowly getting mad, I thought about her without feeling. P.S. This is my translation of poem by Alexander Blok.