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He walked alone against the crowd,
and tearing himself from maelstrom,
crossing himself, he came in the cathedral,
shutting the gates, as if of home.

And Dark receded as from Sun,
the shadows thickened at the parvis.
He stood still at the image of Christ,
went down on knees, exhausted, starving.

Who was he? Tormentor or thief?
What begged he? Absolution – or rest?
But counter to all the devils
with the right hand he crossed his breast.

He didn’t know the words of prayer,
and he was speaking in a hoarse tone.
And the reflection of his candle
was flickering high at the dome.

He went out breathing with the spring,
throwing to beggars all his income.
And for a moment did he feel –
the Soul went glimmering at old home.

That’s how surmounting the dark,
he was relieving all his sorrows.
And beggars, running after him:
“God save you man”, - shouted in chorus.

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