grandfather letter

I left the
Rodimoe home.
deary! Grandfather!
Once again I am writing to you.
You have under the windows
Now they hiss snowstorm,
And in the chimney
Lingering howl and noise,

As if a hundred devils
Climbed to the attic.
And you do not sleep through the night
And drыhaesh foot.
And I want you,
Throwing his jacket,
Go there,
Beat all the poker.

sweet naivety
the soul untouched!
No wonder the great-grandfather
Oats for the three measures
You drove to the sacristan
In an abandoned wilderness
Learn: "It is truly meet"
And with the "Father" "Creed".

Good horse pasture.
Selected food
Love him bail.
AND, oneself
Called on the court,
The very same
You train became grandson.

But the grandson of the study
does not reach.
AND, to your bitterness,
I went into a foreign country.
In your, Now
I wander Tramp,
Pondered them in her thoughts
Unnecessary silly verse.

You say,
What have you stolen,
I'm a fool,
A city - Cork & mot.
But only, grandfather,
Hardly so, hardly,

bad horse
Thief would lead.
bad horse
From the courtyard no sleeves,
but the, who wants
Know another expanse,
he says:
So as not to rot away in the backwater,
native country
We need to leave.

So I threw.
I'm in a country far.
Here rose over fist.
And I'm yours
fate alone
Hello their warm
I send from afar.

Now snowstorm
Vengeance whistles in Ryazan.
And you have
I was itching to see.
But you know -
no sleigh
you here
When me not dovezut.

I know -
You would come to roses,
to heat.
Yes, but here's the rub:
your curse
the power of a steam locomotive
you forever
Will not move anywhere.

And if I die?
you hear, grandfather?
I will die?
You sit in the car or not,
to attend
At the funeral, wedding
And sing the last
Sadness me "hallelujah"?

Then sit down, old man.
Sit down without tears,
trust you
steel mare.
Brother, that for a horse,
What a horse locomotive!
Her, probably,
In Germany, bought.

Cast iron her mouth
I used to fire,
And the smoke over it, how mane,–
black, thick and rosary.
Such would thunder
our horse,
That came as b
Various brooms and brushes!

I know -
even stone Time crumbles.
And you, old man,
Someday you'll understand,
what, even better
Tie the horse to the sleigh,
At the far end
Only the bones you bring.

And understand the,
I left without reason
There, where running
Faster, than flying.
In the country, enveloped in a blizzard
And fire,
bad horse
Thief would lead.

December 1924

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Sergey Yesenin
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