Anton Chekhov, Ivanov

Once I worked hard and thought a lot but I never got tired; now I do nothing and think of nothing, but I'm tired in body and spirit.With a heavy head, with a slothful spirit, exhausted, overstretched, broken, without faith, without love, without a goal, I roam like a shadow among men and I don't know who I am, why I'm alive, what I want. And I now think that love is nonsense, that embraces are cloying, that there's no sense in work, that song and passionate speeches are vulgar and outmoded. And everywhere I take with me depression, chill boredom, dissatisfaction, revulsion from life... I am destroyed, irretrievably!

Tuesday, 17 November 2020

Jesen

 

 
 
Prošla je bura, stišale se strasti,
i ljubav s njima sve je bliže kraju;
Drukčije sada tvoje oči sjaju  
Tvoj stisak ruke nije onaj prvi;

Hladan, bez duše, bez vatre i krvi,
kô da mi zbori: nema leta više!
Za društvo nekad ne beše nam stalo,
o sebi samo govorismo dugo;

No danas, sve je drugo:
Sada smo mudri i zborimo malo...


Prošlo je leto! Mutna jesen vlada.
U srcu našem nijednog slavulja;
Tu hladan vetar svele ruže ljulja,
i  lišće pada...






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