P. E. 1. Clad in the golden dust of evening..., by Ilya Shambat 1
Clad in the golden dust of evening /
An August day did quietly melt. /
The ringing streetcars rushed onwards /
And people went.
I went along...
P. E. 1. The august day was softly fleeting..., by Andrey Kneller The august day was softly fleeting /
Into the twilight’s golden dust. /
The noisy streetcars passed by, speeding. /
And people passed.
With no ...
The August day was slowly melting..., by Rolf W. F. Gross 1.
The August day was slowly melting /
Into the golden afternoon dust. /
A few rattling trams, /
And people passing.
Absent-mindedly, as if wi...