When you take a snowflake that flies so easily,
Like a fallen star gliding,
With your hand - it melts like a tear,
And can never be airy again.



When, transfixed by the transparency of the jellyfish,
We touch it with the whim of our hands,
She becomes a prisoner in bonds,
Suddenly turns murky and dies.




When we want in wandering moths
To see not a dream, but an earthly reality -
Where is their beautiful clothes?
All that’s left on our fingers is dust!




Leave snowflakes and moths to fly,
And do not torment the jellyfish on the sands!
You can't grab your dream with your hands,
You can't keep your dream in your hands!



It is impossible to say to what’s now sadness,
“Be passion! Be madness, rejoice!”
That kind of love is a mistake
But without love, we perish!



- 18 years old, 1910