They talked about the early spring…


They talked about the early spring,
About white, blue snow.
And there - burning star in the sky,
Burned two lives in dreams.

And I vaguely remember the previous day,
Welcoming the sleepy haze,
They sensed the temple, and cold stage,
And his golden needle.

But the tale breezed blue expanse,
The tale - the morning light.
And glimmer morning, and quiet sadness
Hugging the last answer.

And the day ascended, veličav and rigorous.
She looked at the heights…
In severe haze grew cold threshold
And gold vestments dead.

1 February - 28 September 1902

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Alexander Blok
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