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O Dear birch-tree thickets!
You earth! And you, the sands of plains!
Before this departing host
My longing I can never never hide.
In this world I've loved too much [and many]
Everything that vests the soul in flesh.
Peace to aspens that spreading out their
branches,
Look deep into the rosy water [fresh].
I've thought up lot of words in silence,
Many songs for myself I've composed,
And on this sad and gloomy earth
I'm happy that I've breathed and I've
lived.
Happy that I've kissed you, o my women,
[Have] Crumpled flowers, [have] rolled
on the grass
And no beast, [as] our smaller brethren,
–
I've ever hit one on the head.
I know that thickets do not bloom there,
Rye with swan's neck does not ring at
all.
That is why before the host has left out
I always feel a trembling so sublime.
I know that there will not be in that country
All these cornfields, golden in the
gloom.
This is why I hold so dear to my heart,
People who live with me on the earth.
Yessenin
Tr., 13 April 2020
Сергей Есенин
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