Am I a sick man?
as I lived on a hibiscus shrub
Many rooms, long and short
Many face vividly coloured
with a beauty of sadness
grafted on a nameless rootstock
Am I an unattractive man?
as I lived like a petal in the sun
perfect for bees and butterflies
and the visitors; oh day! oh night!
as for me, time danced on a maypole around my dreamy garland head
Am I a spiteful man?
as I've counted all 3863 days, 1 by 1
that I lived on that hibiscus shrub
without a flight to my fantasies
Since then, I'm thrown underground
here I live like a ridiculed mouse
Do you know me, Dostoevsky?
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 2:30 AM UTC
Am I a sick man?
as I lived on a hibiscus shrub
Many rooms, long and short
Many face vividly coloured
with a beauty of sadness
grafted on a nameless rootstock
Am I an unattractive man?
as I lived like a petal in the sun
perfect for bees and butterflies
and the visitors; oh day! oh night!
as for me, time danced on a maypole around my dreamy garland head
Am I a spiteful man?
as I've counted all 3863 days, 1 by 1
that I lived on that hibiscus shrub
without a flight to my fantasies
Since then, I'm thrown underground
here I live like a ridiculed mouse
Do you know me, Dostoevsky?
Fyodor Dostoevsky was indeed a master of Literary science. His works are beyond excellence and thoroughly evocative.
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