No name for you, my distant…

No name for you, my distant.

In the distance lay the mother, ill.
He is leaning over it all sadder
Her nurse - silence.

But the happiness was Unoriginate,
The silence. It was spring.

You came to the glass door
And there stood, in the garden, enticing
Me, pensive Mary,
Golubookuyu me.

I took a quiet hall
through slumber, whispers and dreams…
And in the shadow of the balcony shaking
Her nurses - silence…

Moment - in an old mirror
I saw myself, himself…
And the rustle of dress length
The stairs - to meet you.

And I shook his hand, these hands…
And she trembled in them…
But from a distance they flew sounds:
There… breathless silence.

And yet a moment - in the window frame
I've seen - leaving you…

And in the window to the poor, poor mother
The balcony bowed flowers…

For it lay in the bedchamber
Her nurse - silence…

I'm here, my girl's bedroom,
And do not open the hand… one…

No name for you, Spring.
No name for you, my distant.

October 1906

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Alexander Blok
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