This is house number 57, where he moved with his mother and wife in 1912, the last resting place of the poet. And 53, where a woman lived, the only one in his life who managed to give him the happiness of love. This is actress and singer Lyubov Andreeva-Delmas, his prototype Carmen. Under her windows, Block, the idol of the public and especially the numerous admirers, walked around for hours like a boy, not daring to approach this woman.

We can still take a look at the window on the fifth floor on the far right. Blok's family life in this apartment, as in the previous ones, was deeply miserable, but here her wife's infidelity and tantrums were added to her quarrels with Alexander's mother. However, this did not prevent the poet's creative life, as well as the troubles of war, revolution, unsettled life and even arrest.

Here he wrote many of his works, including the poem that killed him. Inspired by the writing of The Twelve, he said to himself at the end, “Today I am a genius!” But very soon he was disappointed in his hopes for revolutionary changes in his life and deeply repented of what he had written. Moreover, he was obsessed with a manic desire to destroy all copies of his latest poem.

Blok repeatedly asked to go abroad for treatment, but all his requests were met with a strong refusal (some historians blame V. I. Lenin, who did not want to let go of the poet from Soviet Russia). He was sick, he lost his meaning, he wanted to die, and he was about to die... And this happened in August 1921.

Today, his former apartment houses the Blok Museum on the fourth floor, and an exhibition dedicated to his life and work on the second floor.