sweet old lady,
live, how do you live.
I gently feel
Your love and memory.
But you
Not a drop will not understand -
What I live
And what I'm busy in the world.

You now have the winter.
And moonlit nights,
I know, you
Thoughts are not one,
Like someone
bird cherry shakes
And showers
Snow window.

Well, how to sleep in the snow?
In the pipe so plaintively
And so long-drawn groans.
want to go,
But do not you see the bed,
A narrow grave
And - you bury.

Like a thousand
nasal deacons,
She sings Plakida -
bastard blizzard!
And the snow falls
like snout,
I net for grave
neither wife, us another!

I most
Spring love.
love spill
Where each sliver,
like a ship,
this space,
What is not okinesh eye.

But that spring,
I love,
I am a great revolution
And only about her
I suffer and mourn,
her one
I'm waiting and call!

But this nasty -
Hladnaya planet!
Her and the Sun-Lenin
Until the melt!
That's because
With great soul of the poet
I went to row,
Mischief and drink.

But the time will,
Pretty, native!
She will come, it's time to welcome!
No wonder we
We sat down at the guns:
He sat down at the gun,
This - the pen.

Forget about the money you,
Forget about everything.
what death?!
Is that you, You're Lee?
It is not a cow, I,
not a horse, is not settled,
to me
Taken out of the stall!

I'll go myself,
When the time comes,
when palnut
Will have on the planet,
AND, vorotyas,
You buy a scarf,
Well, and father
I buy these things.

While Well - there is a blizzard,
And thousands of deacons
She sings Plakida -
bastard blizzard.
And the snow falls
like snout,
I net for grave
neither wife, us another.

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Sergey Yesenin
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