Sergei Yesenin

poems:

24

let's sit down here my dearest

Let's sit down here, my dearest, look and see how much I care. I will listen to the tempest under your submissive stare. All this golden vegetation and this fair lock of hair, they have come just like salvation of the loafer free of care. Long ago I left my village with the blooming fields and thicket, tempted by the city image and the life of fame, so wicked. So I buried in oblivion orchard, summer I enjoyed where I, to the frogs' singing, raised myself to be a poet. Autumn with the golden branches... Maple, lime-trees, taking pleasure, stick their twigs inside, like clutches, searching for someone they treasure. They are gone, our dear losses, in the homely yard the crescent marks with beams of light on crosses that we'll join them in the basement. Going trough the troubles wholly we shall go like this to welkin. All the winding roads are only for the living beings welcome. Come, sit down here, my dearest, let me look into your face. I will listen to the tempest under your submissive gaze.

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