Late fall

Geese-swans fly over the roofs -
They don't want to take me with them on the road.
Geese-swans, where are you flying?
I look without lowering my head.
Geese-swans, I would fly with you,
If only I had white wings.
Geese-swans, in the far side
I often see you in my cherished dream.
Geese-swans, I'm on the way with you,
Just find white wings!
The sky is gray, the sky is sad.
The meadow is dry and the forest is scared.
Swans and geese cry
And flow across the sky to the south.
Birds cry - it hurts my heart
Because eh behind a sharp wedge
The man ran across the field
From the shack, from the cattle.
From a wife bent down with labor,
From the children following the screaming
From a stack of rotten hay ...
He wanted to fly over the thicket.
He wanted to embrace the heights,
He wanted to part with arable land,
He wanted to fly over life
Above yourself - funny and scary.
And he thrust his hands into the sky
With a cry - almost like a crane,
And branched out in sweet flour
The strings lived on a long neck.
"I'll fly away!" - and with this faith
He fled, taking off into freedom ...
And fell like a lump of gray
At the edge of the native field.
My own wife came up,
She took her head in her hands:
- Where did you run?
- I do not know.
- What did you want?
- I do not remember.

Nikolay Kolychev