I m drinking wine, the wine of my guilt

Русский текст http://www.stihi.ru/2013/06/06/509


I’m drinking wine,the wine of my guilt.
My cup is broken, I'm restless till dawn.
I’m drinking wine and I've no dreams
I don’t know what is outside.
It’s Summer now, I think, the nights are short,
as short as my unconsciousness, my drowse.
I’m gulping down inanity with greed
but sobering call of Duty, what I sense
(or call of debts? – debt hole – beggar’s wallet –
I'm condemned by sanctimonious crowd)
I'm not sleeping, I'm going mad,
doing this very consciously, with aim.
I’ve thrown away illusions, common lies,
all the exquisite lace of paltry words,
and all the vintage rags of early life –
my fancy looks of early masquerade.
I’ve thrown away my previous attempts
of yet another life, another world.
I'm to drink the tinkling wine of guilt –
redemption, calling, duty – to be called.
I'm to walk – even stumbling – my own Way,
the way of a beggar or a vagabond
who knows: all my apologies to You
are the last winter snow upon the ashes.