Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovsky

1

She loves me-loves me not.
My hands I pick
...

Violin was torn to pieces begging,
And then broke out in tears
So childishly,
That Drum couldn't handle it any longer,
...

Some words.
Heavy as a blow.
'Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's- to God what is God's.'
...

I will sew myself black trousers
from the velvet of my voice.
And from three yards of sunset, a yellow blouse.
...

You think malaria makes me delirious?

It happened.
...