ABOUT, This young earth!
Everything is so old – and everything is so new!
At the half-open window, I
I read tales Solovyov.
I can not breathe – in them all so vague!
Suddenly a sigh of ghost scatter?
Flush out the wizard and the fairy.
sometimes death – like a weasel,
sometimes live – almost embarrassing!
Bliss in death, Zvezdoglazka!
that life, Pearl head?
Eh no better than street noise
green pond, where vines bend?
And the dark power Chernoduma
Eh no better than a dream April Rose?
Suddenly someone whisper: “Forever hide and seek
Play with reality harmfully.
evening comes, and completely
Snow Maiden melted in the flame!
All dreams April Grace
July evening destroy”.
– ABOUT, you, who are wise – and so out of place! –
I'm not mad. You're right, may be…
You're right! Here, dreams do not mean much,
Here's lying and sleep, not just a word…
But, If you want to know, like crying,
Read in April Solovyov!