1 May

About town! About collection of problems without answers,
About expanse without solutions and without a cipher key!
On the roof! Tasted boiled wind,
Shoo in the grass and the march, hot pavement!

Meanwhile the sun in the morning, At the May 1
Tire out the house to fall in the morning,
Erase the grass before the first trams
Fungus trupoedskih peers and losses.

Let a race with chilliness locked shops
runs, in the borders of rattling, blue
AND, raving extinct snow, in addition
It carries over the mud without regard words.

About tom, not be for estates fourth,
Neither the fifth descent, or reverse indentation,
that happiness, Kohl's true, that the new unsteady
Pletnev and boundary strips between people is not to be,

That you are not part and not the way
Today, a working, – that all the crowd
We are the gods of his humanity the way.
That will be the last decisive battle.


( 3 assessment, average 4 from 5 )
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Boris Pasternak
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