Young sonorous grove
A woodcutter hewed.
All that God conceived -
Man reviewed.
And the grove's no more -
Only rusted stubs.
In the native voice -
Only foreign sobs.
Haunted are the rings
In your darkened eyes.
Now that we become –
Close-knit enemies.
1917
vip/1 Sept 2013
* * *
Молодую рощу шумную
Marina Tsvetaeva - Young sonorous grove
© Copyright: Виктор Постников, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113100104596
Свидетельство о публикации №113100104596
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