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In this tragic surrounding, which either depresses me, or makes me
realize that I am crippled and chained..…will I have time, before death,
to expand my soul into the full breadth of its dreams, fly up to heaven
on light, white cherished wings, bury myself in a swirling cloud, and
then float out of it into a free, clear expanse and fly quickly over the
seas and lands?
Greetings to you, Eternal Law of Existence! How immensely diverse
you are in your manifestations! And besides you…..are there no other
laws? Yes, there are - behind you can see a whole range of these laws,
they are covered with some kind of sweet fog. And where is their limit?
Their limit is that chilled, grey, inconspicuous figure who scribbles this
scripture. The figure is pitiful, timidly he moves his pen, looks around
and, in general, recognizes himself as some foul creature.
Piskorsky, May 1919
