For shame, Russia, day and night,
Today is a mournful day of sorrow;
Now not to help art,
They called him, a great poet,
Seldom does the earthy bear kind,
Having loved with heart and soul
His Russia, he dies somewhere or other.
For shame, Russia, I flying a reproach
At you like a grenade;
Yet another has lain down in the grave
Without having been at his heart and home.
Yet another Aesop has fallen silent,
Having left us his heritage, like a lone
Wolf, waking with a brass trumpet
Those who have fallen soundly asleep.
Today the time is different,
There is a new frame in the Russian body,
So let a new wave
Cast at list his dust on the island.
02.29.1996
Copyright - 2005
Forgive, Joseph!
© Copyright: Леонид Самойлович, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115011700272
Свидетельство о публикации №115011700272
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