On a leap year – a cursed year
As we blithely forget
And trust life's fragile course
All the same steamers and trams
Meanwhile, in the ill-fated this year
We are studying closely the lens
From thousands of individuals – not the... not the... not the...
Snatching a separate entity
And some Supreme hand
In whom all the death and delays
Extending above the crowd cloud
Pulls us one by one.
And we run, hurry, scurry, — Reason to rush and really quite a lot — And suddenly about his friend's death find out
Stumbled on the obituary column.
And standing in a crowded subway
Prepare to see this byave:
Here he lies, his face dead.
Here he is in a coffin. Here it is in a burial pit...
Changing residence and kinship,
It's angel treads the starry gravel
And all we have from him, With half a dozen random pictures.
If we stand with him in that terrible moment — And Death would be lost in the fight...
She b she took the collar,
And we should hold on to the shoes.
But what is there to interpret, since the hour has struck!
The words now little resolve,
And, it is said ten thousand times,
They are friends — alas! — do not resurrect.
A terrible year!.. Who is now to blame?
Weather, whether its rain and hail?
...Can live apart. And not even call.
But in a leap year to keep up.
©Leonid Filatov, 1980