а трава всё не кончалась и не кончалась...
The barrow.
Something can not disappear in a blink.
First It dissolves every grain within.
Keep leaden void in yourself and you sink.
Look, it has passed away under your skin.
Why are you crying and pouring salt water?
Moisture is useless, this will not revive.
Now whom to ask to forgive and cry quarter?
And on the barrow wild roses won’t thrive.
Like drops, let the past go into the earth.
You’ll find the seeds of new feelings and dreams.
And when springs will grow up, you will be in mirth,
Dancing, you'll catch hot sun rays and rain streams.
Why are you crying if your sadness is over?
You still remember life turning to dust.
But heather and dog-rose already cover
the barrow that covered with only dry crust.
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