"The Sixth of August to the old way ..."
I always remember this day ... I will not quote extract - completely, in my opinion, so well read ...
Boris Pasternak
August
As promised, no cheating,
Penetrated early in the morning sun
Saffron stripe braid
From curtains to sofas.
It covered the hot ohroyu
Nearby forest, home of the village,
My bed pillow wet
And the edge of the wall behind the bookshelf.
I thought, for what reason
Slightly moistened with a pillow.
I dreamed that on my departure
We walked through the woods you followed one another.
You were the crowd, apart and in pairs,
Suddenly, someone remembered that it was
The sixth of August to the old way,
Transfiguration.
Usually the light without a flame
Adhere to this day with Tabor,
And autumn, as a clear sign
By itself attracts the eyes.
And you've gone through a shallow, beggarly,
Transparent, vibrant alder
In the ginger-red forest cemetery,
Burning with as printed cake.
With hushed its vertices
Sky side by side, it is important
And the voices of cock
Echoed further prolonged.
The forest official zemlemersheyu
It was a death among the churchyard,
Looking at my face, deceased,
To dig a hole for me to grow.
Was all feel physically
The calm voice of someone close.
Then the first voice my prophetic
Sounded, untouched by decay:
"Goodbye, blue Transfiguration
And second gold of the Saviour.
Soften last caress feminine
I bitterness fateful hour.
Goodbye, bezvremenschiny years.
Bye, the abyss of humiliation
Challenging a woman!
I - your field of battle.
Farewell, straightened wing span,
Flight arbitrary persistence
And the image of the world, manifested in a word,
And creativity and chudotvorstvo. "
1953
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