I know nothing, I trust in nothing,
I no longer in life see its brighter side.
I approach my friend as if he were a lion
I need nothing else. I am bored and tired.
Someone knifes someone, smothers another..
Everywhere, cheating, lying and greed.
Would eyes not see and would ears not hear!
Lermontov! Werent you right — «what in world is good?»
Even thought is corrupt, even love is deceiving.
Theres no fulfilled dream. All is smoke and mirrors.
I see no joy in living, see in life no meaning.
Im feeling horror. I master fear.
Я ничего не вижу, я ни во что не верю,
Больше не вижу в жизни светлых её сторон.
Я подхожу сторожко к ближнему, точно к зверю.
мне ничего не нужно. Скучно. Я утомлён.
Кто-то кого-то режет, кто-то кого-то душит.
Всюду одна нажива, жульничество и ложь.
Ах, не смотрели б очи! Ах, не слыхали б уши!
Лермонтов, ты ль не был прав: «Чем этот мир хорош?»
Мысль, даже мысль продажна. Даже любовь корыстна.
Нет воплотимой грёзы. Все мишура, все прах.
В жизни не вижу счастья, в жизни не вижу смысла.
Я ощущаю ужас. Я постигаю страх.
«And Pushkin crumples into blueish brittle / Snow’s blanket. And he knows this is the end… / The cruel bullet’s sting is true and it’ll / Take poet’s lifeblood with its flighted trend. / The bloodied shirt… The fur cape now abandoned. / The sledge’s runners’ rattles seem to ...»
«He lifeless fell. And by my hand / A savage courage it was leading. / A needle’s useless – understand – / To staunch a swordsman’s wounded bleeding. / My debt’s repaid. No wonder now / I find my conscience reminisces / About the purest love and how / For blood blood’s paid ...»
«I find a sweet fatigue in silence and in dreams, / In languidness of sloth and din of artless chanting, / I find the roostered fringe of towel’s white enchanting – / And all the stern-faced icons’ ancient sooty streams. / Beneath the flyblown fetid rustle turns each day, / Imbued wit...»
«For you with aching hope I shall now wait, / And all this year I’ll wait for you – / Let you alone but sweetly set your bait / With promises for ever too. The silence of sad fate – you are it all. / A random light in dark of earth, / The untold mystery of debauchery’s fall / Tha...»