Sergei Yesenin

Don't Torment Me With Coldness And Stiffness

Don't torment me with coldness and stiffness And don't ask me my age and so on. I have serious falling sickness With my soul like a yellow bone. Years ago I wasn't the same as I am now. I was dreamy and all I imagined that I would be famous Very wealthy and favoured by all. I'm excessively rich. I declare! There's my hat which I never use. All I have is a shirt and a pair Of worn out once elegant shoes. I am famous as well. They know me From Moscow to Paris scum. And my name will arouse a stormy Response, like a curse and damn. As for love, don't you think it's amusing? As I kiss you, your lips are like dead. I've got love which I seem to be losing Whereas yours hasn't bloomed as yet. I'm gloomy at times - I don't care, For it isn't yet time to be sad. The young grass on the hills, like your hair, Rustling, looks like a golden pad. I would like to be there in that vastness So I might, to the rustle of grass, Fall asleep and drown in darkness And daydream like I did in the past. But the things I now dream about Are quite new to the earth and the grass For they can't be expressed and spelled out, And they cannot be named, alas!

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