4
Again, with the age-old yearning
Ducked to the ground feather.
Again, for the misty river
You klichesh me from afar…
whirl away, missing
Steppe mare herds,
Unleashed wild passion
Under the yoke of the waning moon.
And I'm longing centuries,
Like a wolf under the waning moon,
I do not know, what to do with them,
Where shall I fly over you!
I hear rumblings Sech
And the trumpet cries Tatars,
I see far away over Russia
Wide and quiet fire.
Enveloped in melancholy mighty,
I ryschu on a white horse…
There are voluntary clouds
In the hazy night the sky.
Surging bright ideas
In my heart is torn in pieces,
And falling bright ideas,
Burned dark fire…
"Yavys, my wonderful miracle!
Teach me to be bright!
Heaving horse mane…
The wind cry swords…»
31 July 1908
5
And mist troubles compelling
Coming clouded day.
is. Solovyov
Again over the field Kulikov
Risen and dispelled darkness,
AND, like a cloud of harsh,
Coming clouded day.
Its tranquility wakeless,
For pourable hazy
I can not hear the thunder of battle wonderful,
I do not see the lightning combat.
But you know, begining
High and turbulent days!
Over vrazhym as, as it did,
And splash, & tubes swans.
Can not live with peace heart,
No wonder the clouds gathered.
heavy armor, how to fight.
Now, your hour has come. - Pray!
23 December 1908
