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».
I not in forces to wait I hear hearts knock. I can not understand This fragmentary sound. I am afraid of all, That on light is. It is a joke, the God? Or it is revenge? If suddenly a call Will dump silence I will press a cock And love I will kill. It – not war, Not fear of. It is simple so, So I wait for you.