Passers-by became less.
Only skinny dogs came across to meet,
Only drunken women swearing away.
Above the plain of wet sticking
cobs cabbage, birch and willow,
And the smell of the swamp.
AND, yet cleared the consciousness,
silenced steps, vote,
Talk about the mysteries of different religions,
And on board concerns over the line, –
It became clearer and clearer,
That once I was here and saw
All, I see in a dream, - in reality.
down the road,
And it does not become visible structures.
the swamp, At the fire ram ram,
Above the standing water and rusty
Bridge the gap have been,
And the path wound
Through the purple-green twilight
In the dream, and drowsiness, and laziness,
Where the top and bottom,
And over bumps stunted,
And over the red stripe of dawn -
I am waiting with bated air
And as if on guard stood,
expecting prosperity
Gentle jets daughter
Water and air.
No wonder it was easy
And the red carpet is full:
After all, no one ever heard
From parents deaths,
From school teachers,
And in the books no one has read,
That near the capital,
The swamp a remote and empty,
In the hour of factory whistles and zhurfiksov,
In the hour zabvenyya o bad and good,
In related feelings hour binge
And dissolutely long conversations
About the bad condition of the stomach
And on the new Council of Ministers,
In the hour of contempt for the best of us,
Who, drops its not hiding,
Shamelessly sells her body
And in the dusty sidewalks crackling
With brazen modesty eye contact, –
That in such an insulting hour
All available vision.
What a tramp, like me,
Or, may be, you, who reads
these lines, il anger with love, –
Can see the purple-green
Serene and pure blossom,
What is called the Night Violet.
So I knew about myself,
Passing through the swamp,
He saw through the rain mesh
small hut.
Without knowing, where I wandered,
I opened the heavy door
And embarrassment stood at the threshold.
