The Winter Road
Through the dim and through the clouds
Moon is crawling in the night,
To the fields and to the grounds
Sending its wistful Light.
No home, no fire ,
No something bright and gay,
Only strippen milestones are arising
On the way.
Dullish roads ! In the morning
I’ll look at dear face,
Happy, joyful on returning
After this eternal pace.
Softly clock-spring keeps that moving
Of untired time-hand.
I’ll forget at fire looking
All this way, this dark and trend.
Пушкин Зимняя дорога Перевод на английский
© Copyright: Денисов Д.А., 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103071001149
Свидетельство о публикации №103071001149
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