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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=412522" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ego</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=412522" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A week son of the dying generation,<br>I would not seek the roses of Alps,<br>I will not gain the beautiful sensation,<br>Not from wave’s noise, nor from young tempests hums.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=412522" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But I would see on fields of scarlet glass<br>The brilliant and forever crying highlands, <br>The faded flowers in whites of tables’ vase,<br>The ornament, that flame of evening founds.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=412522" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And when my head has sunk in nightly rest,<br>I read dreamed stories, lost of any real,<br>Forgotten words of books, burned in forgotten past,<br>In hazy sleep, I kiss with hot appeal.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Innokenty+Fedorovich+Annensky">Innokenty Fedorovich Annensky</a></strong></div>

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