Street zucchini, vulgar and cheap, but with a claim to romance: huge identical ships sail around the wallpaper ... Easy unrealistic touch: the owner and the sex look like each other, like twins, one of the visitors is “spilled Verlaine”, the other - “spilled Hauptmann. " Drunken companies, loud noise. Separate remarks, fragmentary dialogues add up to the broken music of a tavernous vulgarity, dragging out like a whirlpool. When a light allegro indicated the tonality of the action, the Poet appears: wasted, exhausted in taverns, drunkenly reveling in his intention to “tell his soul to a front man” (sexually). The vague poetic longing, the flickering dream of the “Stranger” in rustling silks, whose radiant face barely shines through the dark veil, contrasts with the onset from all sides, reinforcing the pressure of drunken vulgarity, but at the same time as it is engendered by it. And the languid melody of a dream is woven into rude shouting, and the battered Man in a coat offers the Poet a cameo with a marvelous image, and everything sways in the smoke, floats, and “the walls part. The finally leaning ceiling opens the sky - winter, blue, cold. ”
Janitors drag along the bridge of the hopped Poet. The stargazer monitors the progress of the stars: "Ah, falls, the star flies ... Fly here! Here! Here!" - sings his verse adagio. Called by him, a beautiful woman appears on the bridge - a Stranger. She is all in black, her eyes are full of surprise, her face still retains a starry shine. Blue is smoothly walking towards her - beautiful, as she, too, perhaps, having torn from heaven. He speaks with her the dreamy language of stars, and the winter air is filled with the music of the spheres - eternal and therefore bewitchingly sleepy, cold, ethereal. And the “eponymous star-maiden” longs for “earthly speeches.” “Do you want to hug me?” - "I touch do not dare you." - “Do you know passion?” - “My blood is silent” ... And Blue disappears, melts, twisted by a snow pillar. And the Stranger is picked up by the past Mr. - an oily, lustful dandy.
Crying on the bridge Stargazer - mourns the fallen star. The Poet is crying, having regained consciousness from a drunken dream and realizing that he had missed his dream. Snow is falling more and more dense, it is falling down a wall, snow walls are condensing, folding into ...
... the walls of a large living room. The guests are gathering, “a general rumble of meaningless conversations,” as if secular, is higher in tone than conversations in a tavern, but exactly the same thing. Separate remarks are repeated word for word ... And when the Lord flies in, taking away the Stranger, and utters the phrase that already sounded: “Kostya, friend, she’s at the door,” when everyone suddenly begins to feel the strangeness of what is happening, vaguely guess what it was, was , was, - then the Poet appears. And the Stranger enters behind him, confusing the guests and hosts with his unexpected appearance, forcing the street don Juan to embarrassingly hide. But the invincible meanness of the living room is impenetrable; the conversation spun around the same tavern circle again. Only the Poet is thoughtful and quiet, looks at the Stranger - not recognizing ... The late Astrologer secularly politely asks if he managed to catch up with the disappeared vision. “My searches were inconclusive,” the Poet answers coldly. In his eyes “emptiness and darkness. He forgot everything ”... An unrecognized virgin disappears. "A bright star burns outside the window."
