С. Есенин Отговорила роща золотая The birch-tree w

The birch-tree wood has already stopped talking
With its autumnal tongue of golden leaves,
And cranes while passing fields where I am walking
Don’t pity anyone beneath the trees-
And cranes while passing fields where I am walking
Don’t pity anyone beneath the trees.

I walk alone in bare and windy moorland,
And cranes are blown away with singing winds.
I’m full of thoughts of my green years of happ’ness
And pity nothing watching the white wings.
I’m full of thoughts of my green years of happ’ness
And pity nothing watching the white wings.

I don’t regret my years that had no purpose,
I don’t regret my heart’s first lilac bloom,
My orchard’s full of flaming red ash-berries,
But who will taste their warmth? I know not who...
My orchard’s full of flaming red ash-berries,
But who will taste their warmth? I know not who...

The birch-tree wood has already stopped talking
With its autumnal tongue of golden leaves,
And cranes while passing fields where I am walking
Don’t pity anyone beneath the trees-
And cranes while passing fields where I am walking
Don’t pity anyone beneath the trees.