Hluhaya time to November.
Past the shoals of geese.
No need to get upset:
In the eyes of fear big.
Let the wind, Rowan zanyanchyv,
It scares her bedtime.
The order of creation is deceptive,
Like a fairy tale with a happy ending.
Tomorrow you wake up from hibernation
AND, coming on winter expanse,
Again, the water tower around the corner
His tracks will stand.
Again, these white flies,
And the roof, Yule and grandfather,
And the pipe, and forest lop-eared
Jester masquerade dressed.
All iced with a flourish
The fur cap down to the eyebrows
And creeping wolverine
Spies from the branches.
You go on with distrust.
The path plunges into ravine.
There frost vaulted tower,
Slatted planks on the door.
Behind the thick curtain of snow
Some lodge wall,
Road, and the edge of the coppice,
And the new thicket visible.
Rimmed in thread,
It looks like a stanza
About Sleeping Princess in a coffin.
I belomu mertvomu empire,
Giving up mentally the creeps,
I quietly whisper: “and thank you,
You more, than asking, give”.