The day will dawn, for Russia blackest day
When diadem of kings will fade away
Previous love the rabbles will forget
And food for many will be bloody, dead.
When children innocent and covert femйs
Will face the justice, overthrown by fiends.
When plague from stinking corpses mortified
Will ramble near villages mystified
To summon mobs from shacks with subtle shawl
And soon starvation tortures bare soil.
Horizon glow will colour billows flush
Next moment thoroughgoing man will rush
And you will recognize him, comprehend
Why stainless dagger glances in his hand.
And misery for you, your plaint, your moan
That hour seem to him a laugh, not groan,
And everything is dismal, horrid, crow,
Like his too gorgeous cloak with skyey brow.
Presage Лермонтов - Предсказание
© Copyright: Дитрих Даркер, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126040507198
Свидетельство о публикации №126040507198
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