BUT. M. Remizov
I chased you whip
At noon, through the bushes,
To wait here together
quiet emptiness.
Here - we sit with you on the moss
Posredi.
The third - a month at the top -
He curled his mouth.
I, like you, child dubrav,
My face is also erased.
Quieter water below and herbs -
seedy hell.
On the dunce cap
jingle separations.
Behind - the distance -
Network river izluk…
And we sit, Durachka, –
Cold, sickness treatment.
Zeleneyut caps
backwards.
Plagued dream of water,
wave rust…
We - the forgotten traces
Someone depth…
January 1905
