Oh, My Fallen Maple, Oh, My Frozen Maple By Sergey Yesening

Oh, my fallen maple, oh, my frozen maple, Why you stand in blizzard bending and unstable? Did you see somebody, did you hear there something? As if you left the village I beheld your passing. As a drunken watchman you have stepped on path, you drowned in snow, you froze foot having very strange view. Ah, and now I myself have become unstable, a friendly booze is over, I can't walk, disable. There I met a willow, here the pine I noticed singing song in blizzard about summer remotest. And it seemed to me that I am this one maple, But I am not fallen I am green and able. Being not so modest, almost losing reason I hugged birch as a strange wife in this winter season. P.S. This is my translation of poem by Sergey Yesening.