Пороша – Sergey Yesenin

food. Quiet. The bells are ringing
Under the hoof in the snow,
Hooded crows only
Made some noise in the meadow.

Enchanted by the invisible,
The forest slumbers under the fairy tale of sleep,
Like a white kerchief
Tied up pine.

Bend down, like an old lady,
Leaned on a stick,
And over the very top
Pounds a woodpecker on a bitch.

Horse gallops, a lot of space,
Falls snow and lays a shawl.
Endless road
Runs away like a ribbon into the distance.


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