Together we waited for death or sleep.
MiGs were weary.
Suddenly, a breeze wafted from the window,
Stirred sheet of the Holy Book.
There was an old man - already, as snow, gray -
gait Beaudry, with merry eyes,
laughed us, all beckoning hand,
And leaving the familiar steps.
And then we all, who was, - young and old -
We recognized him as, who is in front of us,
AND, turned trembling ago,
Found the ashes with his eyes closed…
But it was a sweet soul to follow
And outgoing see fun.
Our hour has come - and remember to love,
And to celebrate another housewarming.
(1 July 1902 city)
WITH. Shakhmatovo
