Meeting Benches World art in all forms
WE NOW THERE WE GO, GRADUALLY
We now we go little by little, to the land where joy and peace. Perhaps, soon I’ll have to pick up my mortal remains for the journey. Care birch forests! O earth! And you, the sands of the plains! Before this crowd of runners, I have no strength to hide my sadness. I loved too much in this world, all that as the soul of the flesh. Peace to aspens that, spreading branches, were mirrored in the water pink. Many thoughts I meditated in silence, many songs within me I composed. I am happy on the gloomy earth, of what I breathed and I lived. Happy to have kissed women, trampled flowers, tumbled in the grass, he had never beaten on the head animals, our younger brothers. I know that there will not flower woods, not rustles rye from gooseneck. Therefore, before a crowd of runners, I feel always a thrill. I know that in that country, will not be these campaigns biondeggianti in the fog. Even so, I cherish the men who live with me on this earth.
(Sergei Alexandrovich Yesenin)
http://www.amazon.com/The-Collected-Poems-Yesenin-English/dp/0970580304
