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In the I want to reach
To the bottom.
The paper, Finding the Way,
At the heart turmoil.

To the essence of elapsed days,
Prior to their causes,
Prior to founding, to the roots,
to the core.

All the while grasping the thread
destinies, events,
Live, think, feel, be in love,
accomplishes has opened.

ABOUT, if only I could
although some,
I would write eight lines
About passion properties.

iniquity, the sins,
lam, chase,
unexpectedness hurry,
elbows, palms.

I'd brought her law,
its beginning,
And repeats its name
Initials.

I'd smash verses, garden.
All trembling veins
have bloomed linden them in a row,
in single file, neck.

In the verses I had made the breath of roses,
mint breath,
meadows, sedge, haymaking,
thunderstorms rumble.

So once put Chopin
living miracle
Farmstead, parks, groves, graves
In their studies.

achieved celebrations
Game and flour
taut bowstring
tight bow.

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All poems of Sergey Yesenin

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