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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It is tender and blue, unspeakable Quiet land after tempests and storms And my soul’s boundless field, it’s typical, It is smelling with honey and rose. I calmed down. Years gave me the reason, I don’t blame things that happened and passed, Like the furious horses in threesome were rolled all over country so fast. They have dusted with hooves all around and then They have lost with the whistle of fiend, In the timber asylum here and now I can hear that leaf quietly flies in the wind. Is it bell or far echo? And easily All is stabbing again in my chest, Hold it, soul, we have passed through the misery Of this life where I was only guest. We’ll find out everything that was seen in days, What did happen in country, what’s wrong, We’ll forgive all offenders for their ways, Their fault, our fault, all is done. I accept all that happened and that was not, But I’m sorry for my thirtieth year – Oh, my youth, I demanded not so a lot in the tavern and it wasn’t fair. But in fact, a young oak, that’s not ready share With its acorns, bends like grass in field, Oh, my riotous youth when I wasn’t care, Golden madcap who cannot just yield. P.S. This is my translation of poem by Sergey Yesenin
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