Again, in the golden years,
Three breast-bands worn shoot the breeze,
And get stuck hand-painted spokes
The lax track…
Russia, impoverished Russia,
Me your gray hut,
Your songs I wind, –
As the first tears of love!
You feel sorry I can not,
And I bore his cross…
What you want magician
Give Rogue beauty!
Let entice and deceive, –
will not perish, you do not sginesh,
And only a blur care
Your beautiful features…
Well, well? One concern Bole -
One tear river noisy,
Are you still the same - the forest, to field,
Yes patterned boards to brow…
The impossible is possible,
The road is long light,
When the flash in the distance of the road
Instant eyes from under her shawl,
When the rings sadly cautious
Deaf song coachman!..
18 October 1908
