要确知我是从何时开始在内心深处听到这首诗的,已经是不可能的了。那也许是在一九一七年二月二十五日,在一次《假面舞会》的彩排之后,我和我的同伴站在涅夫斯基大街,而一支哥萨克骑兵军正在沿路冲锋的时候。或者是有一次,当我一个人站在利泰内桥上,在辽阔的日光中,它突然被提升起来(绝无仅有的一件事),以使一艘扫雷舰为支援那些布尔什维克而向着斯莫尔纳进发(一九一七年十月二十五日)。我真的不知道! It is impossible to know when I heard this poem in my heart. Maybe on February 25, 1917, after a “masquerade” rehearsal, I and my companion stood on Nevsky Prospekt, while a Cossack cavalry man was assaulting along the road time. Or, once, when I stood alone on the Littaine Bridge, it was suddenly lifted in the vast sunshine (the one and only thing) to bring a minesweeper toward Smolens in support of those Bolsheviks Arnault goes on (October 25, 1917). I really do not know!