You, still the squanderers of the empty hall —
when the twilight comes, wide as woods…
And the chandelier, like a sixteen-pointer, vaults
where nothing can set foot.
About author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: deutsch
- Born: December 4, 1875
- Died: December 29, 1926
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He entered a confectioner's shop to rest, once. He was in a state of nervous excitement and perturbation; he noticed nothing and no one; and he felt a craving for solitude, to be alone with his thoughts and his emotions, and to give himself up to them passively. He loathed the idea of trying to answer the questions that would rise up in his heart and mind. "I am not to blame for all this," he thought to himself, half unconsciously.
Fyodor Dostoevsky