Wind would bang and snow - groan,
In memory there appears land,
The land and distant shore...
But blossom faded, under snow tamed...
And rustles with a dry grass brush
My illness old...
And night... To night - along the path
I go to the gorge snow-covered...
Night, forest, snow. I'm carrying
The boring burden of my memory...
And suddenly - a small house's standing
In meadow. A girl sings there...
6 january 1912
Ветр налетит... - перевод А. Блока
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116122508208
Свидетельство о публикации №116122508208
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