Little Elegy By Igor Severyanin
Oh, she has lifted on tiptoes
and gifted lips to me for kiss
that was so tired, and autumn knows
wet silence. There were soundless tears
of ours, they were falling down,
And there was boring dying day,
All being had a boring gown
excepting only dream, I say.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Igor Severyanin, 1909
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