The full moon rose over the meadow
Unchanged marvelous circle,
Light and silent.
Pale, pale blossoming meadow,
The darkness of the night for him crawling
resting, sleeping.
Terribly take to the road,
incomprehensible anxiety
Under the moon reigns.
Though you know: early in the morning
The sun will come out of the fog,
field light up,
And then you will pass the footpath,
Where under every blade of grass
Everyday life.
July 1898. WITH. Shakhmatovo
