Sergey Esenin
Reminiscence

The blizzard buried the hedge,
Behind the window the snow still falls
While on the warm stove ledge
An old man his youth recalls.

«Eh, there were good seasons
In my life — nothing went wrong,
I had no worries, but the reasons
To carouse and sing the songs,

And now what life do I have?
I’m worried, and it’s madness
But at the times I remember
Those old days with sadness;

I had a long life (in my appendage)
I used it well to (...)
Even at my old age,
The freedom to say it I lack.

Don’t full me old knave
You are full of (...)
Your life is at the grave
Your end isn’t fit.

And so what, I submit, it’s true,
It looks like my fate,
But their time will come too,
Old age does emasculate;»

Behind the window, at the gates
Blizzard blew the snow in a heap
And on the warm stove ledge
The old man sadly fell asleep.

Translated by K. M. W. Klara