Воскресенье кончилось
Oh let me be alone, far from eyes and faces,
Let me be alone, a while, even from you;
My soul is like a desert, sick of light-filled spaces,
The urge of useless winds, the sky of pitiless blue;
Let me be alone, a while, in twilit places,
Waiting the merciful night, the stately stars and the dew.
'Weariness' by Sara Teasdale
Let me be alone, a while, even from you;
My soul is like a desert, sick of light-filled spaces,
The urge of useless winds, the sky of pitiless blue;
Let me be alone, a while, in twilit places,
Waiting the merciful night, the stately stars and the dew.
'Weariness' by Sara Teasdale