From dusky heart of bristle sky, From clouds quietly and slowly, On dark and bare forest sight, On restless tillage dreaming crаwly… On freezing river ice Fall down snow spry.
But if in mixing clear lines We let to flow a gloomy worries, Which filled us brimful till the eyes, And drops the syllable make story… Haze overcast the sky It’s grief good bye.
It’s secret poems of the sky, Old hidden treasure of the forment From depth of heavy curtain fly, By noiseless sound means - no comment… To melt on sky in mist Dumb rock at еase.