Night fog caught me on the road.
Through the thicket of the forest I looked lunar face.
Tired horse hoof beat in alarm -
calm day, He was not accustomed to the night.
Sullen, still, dopey
Familiar forest was terrible for me,
And I'm in the lumen, moon oserebrenny,
Directed step snoring horse.
Fog creeps marsh plain,
But the church silvery on the hill.
There - for holmom, for roshtey, of the valley -
My house mother hiding in the darkness.
Tired horse quickly jumps to the goal,
In a strange village twinkling lights.
On both sides of the road zaaleli
campfires shepherds, exactly beacons.
