Melancholy  by Dmitry Merezhkovsky

In the radiance of pale stars, as in deathly eyes -

Inexorable, cold dispassion;

The last ray of dawn barely glimmers in the clouds,

As a memory of past happiness.

My soul is filled with silent twilight:

Neither passion, nor love with their sweet torment, -

Everything has frozen in my chest... only the feeling of being

Torments with lifeless boredom.