Anguish of vague remembrance, by R. H. Morrison That same page overflowed with ink /
Is always opening to me. I will go /
Away from people, but whither, whither /
Can I hide myself from the ni...
Ennui of remembering, by Vladimir Markov and Merrill Sparks Everytime the identical page, /
Spilled with ink, opens up before me. /
I shall go off from people... But where. /
Where to hide from the night’...
The Pine Of Reminiscence, by Yevgeny Bonver I see always the page that is filled on /
By the muddy-black blotches of ink. /
I am able from men to be hidden, /
But to where could I run from...