mares ships


If a wolf howling at a star,
Means, sky clouds izglodano.
Torn bellies mares,
Black Sails Ravens.

Not prosunet Climbing Azure
From purgovogo cough stench;
It flies under the neighing of storms
Skulls zlatohvoyny garden.

l hear? You hear the sound of a ringing?
It Rake dawn on puscham.
Oars severed hands
You rows coming into the country.

swim, swim in the heights!
Leyte with rainbow cry crow!
Soon white wood SRON
My head with yellow leaf.


Field, field, Who do you call?
Or I dream cheerful dream -
Blue cavalry gallops rye,
Overtaking the forest and village?

No, not rye! Rides on the field frost,
windows smashed, the door wide.
Even the sun is cold, as a puddle,
Which naprudil gelding.

Who is it? Russ mine, Who are you? Who?
Whose scoop snow in your scale?
On the roads hungry mouth
Suck the edge of dawn dogs.

They do not need to run in "there",
Here, people would get on warmer.
God gave the child she-wolf,
The man ate baby wolf.


ABOUT, whom, whom sing
In this frantic glow of corpses?
look: women third
Hatches eyes from the navel.

There he! came out, It looks moon,
Do not see the bones pomyasistey.
It is seen, to laugh at himself
I sang a song about the wonderful guest.

Where are you? Where eleven,
What lamps boobs harness?
If you want to, poet, marry,
So marry the sheep in the barn.

Thou shalt commune with straw and wool,
Tepli song verbal wax.
Angry October showering rings
With the brown hands of birches.


beasts, beasts, Come to me
In the cup of my hands malice weep!
L Is not it time to stop the moon
In the sky clouds lap?

Sisters and brothers males females,
I, how are you, people in pens.
I do not want ships mares
And sail crows.

If hunger with ruined walls
I clung to my hair,–
Half of my feet myself eat,
Half will give you suck.

I will not go anywhere with people,
Izdohnut better with you,
The favorite to lift the land
In a crazy neighbor stone.


I will sing, I will sing, I will sing!
Not hurt nor goats, nor hare.
If it is possible what to grieve,
Means, What can smile.

We all wear the apple of joy,
And armed us close the whistle.
Srezhet wise gardener autumn
My head with yellow leaf.

In the garden of the dawn, only one path,
Sglozhet groves October wind.
all know, do not take
He came into this world a poet.

He came to kiss cows,
Listen heart oat crunch.
deeper, deeper, sickles poems!
rash cherry, sun bush!

September 1919

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Sergey Yesenin
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