[tchaika]

Memory of his mother

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So he ended, peace!
Vzmetaya snow blizzard howled.
Wolves howling across the river
In the darkness of the meadow.

I sit among his poems,
Papers and trash.
And somewhere there in the mist of snow
Tomb mom.

There's a field, sky, and the haystack
Want to go there - oh, miles!
I'm supposed to knock the snow
Will drive crazy night winds!

But I can, but I can
Willingly
Punch their way through a blizzard
In the animal field! ..
1964
Nikolay Rubtsov