Yesenin S. Long winter croons, intoning...
The shaggy forest’s groaning
It lulls with pine peals.
Around, burden-toting,
To far-off land a-floating,
A hoary woolpack steals.
Without, is then hovering
A storm that spreads its covering
All silky, though chill.
As if some lone fellows,
The playful little sparrows
Are huddled on my sill.
Malnourished, cold, bleary,
The birdies, being weary,
Are huddling up yet more.
And as the blizzard’s raving –
With shutters rattling, waving –
It gives an angry roar.
Beyond the frozen glazing,
The tender birds are dazing
As if under a spell.
And their dreams are showing
A beautiful, and glowing,
And sunbeamed vernal belle.
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«Поёт зима – аукает…», 1910–1917, исходное заглавие: «Воробышки»
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