Sergei Yesenin

The Evening Flares, The Cat Naps On A Beam

The evening flares, the cat naps on a beam. Someone is praying: "Lord Jesus." The twilight blazes, the fog kindles; There is a scarlet curtain over the ornate window. Spider webs stretch from the golden toolshed. Somewhere a mouse is scratching in a closed cage... By the forest meadow - bundles of wheat. Firs, like spears, rest against the sky. The dew-covered groves have started to smolder... In the heart, only silence and relics.

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