The girl in a grey frock.

Girl with empty eyes,

Tell me, what is your name?

 

Everyone has his own name for me:

Call me whatever you like.

 

One calls me division,

Another - hostility,

Others call me doubt,

Or anguish.

 

Another calls me boredom,

Still another - pain....

And Mother dead calls me Separation,

 

The girl in a grey frock.

 

Zinaida Hippius.

 

Done