«Past mountains, past the yellow valleys, / A path is stretching from the village. / I gaze on woods and flames of evening / Where nettles twine the wattle fencing. Heavenly blue spreads in the morning / Where like sand, churches’ domes are gleaming. / Breezes ripple the roadside grass /...»
«The red evening is settling along the road / And rowan trees are sinking in mists and shade. / An ancient isba’s doorway opens wide / Like jaws that chew the pungent quiet inside. The loyal autumn chill lovingly stole / From farmyard through the haze to the fields of oats. / And through...»
«The rowan trees grew red, / The water turned bright blue. / The sullen moon’s horse rode / With its reins falling loose. From the gloom a blue swan, / Out of the grove, swims. / With miraculous force he’s borne / Up on his great wings. This is your land, and mine, / Ageless plowm...»
«I cried and cavorted in the spring rain, / But the storm stopped. / You get dull to me, Sergei Esenin, / Lift your eyes up... Beneath sky and trees it’s dull to hear / Your wings’ blind waves: / They can’t unf...»