And the stone word fell br On my still-living breast. br Never mind, I was ready. br I will manage somehow. br br Today I have so much to do: br I must kill memory once and for all, br I must turn my soul to stone, br I must learn to live again— br br Unless . . . Summer's ardent rustling br Is like a festival outside my window. br For a long time I've foreseen this br Brilliant day, deserted house.