The river carried downwind floe,
It was spring, and the wind was howling.
From otpylavshego fireplace
Obscure darkness evening sailing.
And he sat in front of a fireplace,
On top and otstradal
And look, once aquiline,
Cooled ashes watched.
In the evening twilight floated
Before him visions of the past days,
Waking the old sorrow
Game disembodied shadows.
One, one, forgotten world,
Bezvlastnыy, but still alive,
From dusk onetime idols
Weary head nodding…
Friends experienced string,
The enemies of the brutal features,
Loved and favorite person
Swim out of the gray darkness…
All cast, forgotten everywhere,
it is not necessary to suffer and wait,
It remains only a pile of ashes
Extinct eyes watch…
Where swept his dreams?
Prev inclined than a poor mind?
He recalled his Throwing,
Wake alarm earlier doom…
And it was sweet to be tired,
It is encouraging because, more than ever,
That the heart is no longer willing
neither shocks, or labor,
our Leste, neither love, no glory,
neither enlightenment, our ultra…
memories majestically,
As the clouds, embraced sunset,
Heaped pile of towers,
built a wall, like in fog,
Where the sky was yellow and terrible,
And thunderstorms in the young years…
From otpylavshego fireplace
Unclear dusk sailed and sailed,
The river carried downwind floe,
It was spring, and the wind was howling.
