Come on stubble, leisurely,
With you, my friend modest,
And pours soul,
In the village church dark.
Autumn day high and quiet,
Only heard - muffled crow
Calling his fellow,
Yes coughs old.
Barn rasstelet low smoke,
And long under Owino
We are closely watching eyes
During the summer of cranes…
fly, flying an oblique angle,
The leader of the ring and crying…
What rings, about what, about what?
That means the fall weeping?
And low poor villages
not count, Death is not the eye,
And light in the darkened day
A fire in a meadow far…
ABOUT, niche me,
What you mean to heart?
ABOUT, my poor wife,
What are you crying bitterly?
1 January 1909
