Boosty 3 by zenyat on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Winter is coming.

Some angle is bearish

Under the tears of a capricious child It will disappear into the impassable mud.

There will be little houses in the lakes,

The pipes will be lit above them.

In the cold embrace of the muddy road Those who love life will come to the fire. Abodes of the strict north, Covered by the sky like a roof!

On you, provincial lairs, It is written: hereby win.

I love you, distant marinas In a province or village.

The blacker and leafier the book,

The more soulful is her charm.

Heavy moving carts,

Having spread out the alphabets,

Your favorite book since childhood It's like they're open in the middle.

And suddenly it is written again

The next first snowstorm,

All in the strokes of a sleigh runner

And white, like handicrafts.

October is silver-walnut.

The shine of frost is pewter. Chekhov's Autumn Twilight, Tchaikovsky and Levitan.

Boris Pasternak

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