Vladimir Mayakovsky: "To His Beloved Self The Author Dedicates These Lines"

“But where can a man
like me bury his head?
Where is there shelter for me?
…The gold of all the Californias
will never satisfy the rapacious horde of my lusts.
…I shall go by,
dragging my burden of love.
In what delirious
and ailing night,
was I sired by Goliaths—
I, so large,
so unwanted?”