FROM THE RUSSIAN OFVLADIMIR VLADISLAVLEF.

FROM THE RUSSIAN OFVLADIMIR VLADISLAVLEF.

From my poor rhymes you turn your face,From my allurements flee;So shuns the vane the wind’s embrace,And scorns his minstrelsy.

From my poor rhymes you turn your face,From my allurements flee;So shuns the vane the wind’s embrace,And scorns his minstrelsy.

From my poor rhymes you turn your face,From my allurements flee;So shuns the vane the wind’s embrace,And scorns his minstrelsy.

From my poor rhymes you turn your face,

From my allurements flee;

So shuns the vane the wind’s embrace,

And scorns his minstrelsy.

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