The poem always was for me the form of expression of feelings. In two-three stanzas finds room much – the overflowing emotions asking on will of thought, impetuous passion. Not having possibility to give vent to this all on a paper, for a long time would descend suma from an overabundance of feelings. And so – anything, it was possible to consult. Improbably it would be desirable, not spending, certainly, not deserved analogies to repeat thereupon Sergey Yesenin's words: «as to other autobiographical data, - they in my verses».
In two hours – a dawn, Through three I will fall asleep, perhaps, Through five – a harbinger of troubles New day will come the insignificant. Through seven – will blow up fire The fear, that will grow day into an epoch, Through twenty – stop, do not touch! To me, I hope, will be on ….