Soon I’ll explode like a ton of dynamite,
There is a charge of uncreative evil in me.
The Muse visited my home today,
She sat for awhile and then left, you see.

Well, she had some weighty reasons,
I don’t have a right to whimper anymore.
Imagine the Muse at a man’s home.
God knows, what people will say about her.

But still I feel so lonely and offended,
Because this Muse, most people will say -
Stayed up with Blok for many, many nights,
And lived with Balmont night and day.

I ran up to the table in impatience.
Oh, God, have mercy and please help.
She left, and so did the inspiration,
And three rubles for a taxi-cab.

I’m running wild like a beast from insanity.
But bless that Muse, I forgave her then.
She must have gone to someone else’s house,
Looks like I didn’t treat her well.

A huge cake filled with birthday candles,
Has dried up from grief, and I feel the blues.
I drank the cognac with my evil neighbors,
The one that I prepared for my Muse.

The years passed, like people in a black list.
Everything’s in the past, I’m yawning all the time.
She left so silently, muttering in English,
But she submitted to me these two lines:

"I am a genius, get rid of doubts,
Give the delights, flowers and be wise!"
I remember that wonderful moment,
When you appeared before my eyes."