< Sergei Anchutkin
You say "The city!»
And what you city?
Why should this city - where there is so little of the sky
Now, instead of the sky crows -
let the dust behind the gate ...
And like the sun, wind, rain - but at least the snow
And you say, "Look!
Let's go away!
Wander through the woods! Warm ourselves on the sand! »
And I can not believe it for a month,
There is somewhere quiet, warm, peaceful, kind point ...
I am afraid that we are accustomed to
To earth and mud ...
I'm surprised that the songs would be desirable less than bread.
You say, "People!» -
and that you people?
Why do these people when they are so little of Heaven?