The world was torn apart,disgraced,
the earth revolved laboriously.
How many of those cracks have raced
right through the very heart of me!
Vitality it does not lack,
life in its own way taking in,
but,like a vessal with a crack.
when struck,it makes no cheerful ring.
It throbs,still very much alive;
the fire’s not out,though it burns low.
O epoch,it can still survive
the impact of your latest blow!
Y.Smelyakov