undergrowth. Steppe and gave…

undergrowth. Steppe and gave.
light of the moon to the ends.
Here again, suddenly wept
Bottling bells.

ugly road,
Yes beloved forever,
On which traveled a lot
Every Russian.

Oh you, sleigh! What a sleigh!
Chimes frozen Aspen.
My father - a farmer,
Well, I - a peasant's son.

I do not care to fame
And this, I'm a poet.
This area chahlenkuyu
I have not seen for many years.

the, who have seen at least once
This land and this expanse,
That almost every birch
Leg glad kiss.

How can I not shed a tear,
If a wreath styn and units
Will be there to have fun
Yunost Russian villages.

Mother, garmoška, poison death,
Know, from that under the howling
Not one dashing glory
Disappeared Trin grass.

21/22 October 1925

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Sergey Yesenin
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