My chest felt so helplessly cold, But my steps were light. I put it on my right hand. A glove from the left hand.

It seemed like there were a lot of steps, And I knew there were only three of them! An autumn whisper between the maples Asked: "Die with me!

I am deceived by my dull A fickle, evil fate." I replied, "Honey, honey — And me too. I'll die with you!"

This is the song of the last meeting. I looked at the dark house. There were only candles burning in the bedroom. An indifferent yellow flame.

*Polnalyubvi - the song of the last meeting

The poet listened for a few more minutes as a sweet girl sings this song while sitting on a chair with a guitar. He liked this performance so much that his "icy" heart melted. He often came to the palace square, listened to the songs of the greats, but always stayed away until he heard that girl with the guitar. He came here every day, and every time he was afraid to approach her and get to know her. He was afraid to force himself to speak. The man was 35 years old, he had long wanted to find a man, his soul mate, who would understand him and cure him of depression and eternal longing. The poet took two cups of mint latte, approached the girl and began to talk, overcoming his embarrassment and himself. -..Hello. He smiled sweetly at her.