Sergei Yesenin

poems:

24

letter to mother

Are you still alive, my dear old one? I am still alive. My greetings to you! May above your home that amazing light shine on and dispel the evening gloom. I was told that they see you very often, all fearful, and worried about me a lot, going to the road every now and then, clad in your old, shabby overcoat. That, in the evening darkness, very often, your mind plays the same tragic part: In a tavern fight, some ruffian has plunged a Finish knife straight to my heart. Fear not, dear. And don’t be dreary! It is only fiction through and through. I am not so a bad drunkard, really, that I should die without seeing you. I am still your tender son as ever, and the only thing I dream of, when alone, is to leave this dismal world I live in, and return to our humble low-roofed home. I’ll return in spring and without a warning when the garden blooms white as snow. But, please don’t wake me early in the morning, like you used to do eight years ago. Don't disturb the dreams already dreamt don't perturb my vain and futile strife, for I have become tired much too early from all that sorrow and weariness in life. And don’t teach me how to say my prayers! There is no way back to what is forever gone. You alone are my only solitude now, the remaining light that is still shining on. Mother! My dearest! Forget your pain, do not fear and worry about me so. A don't go to the road every now and then in that old, shabby overcoat of yours.

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