Loneliness By Ivan Bunin
There's wind and there's rain and there's mist
above desert waters of cold,
Here life's dead to spring, it's not pleased,
to spring, wealth of gardens is sold.
I'm alone in my bower, it's dark,
I've got easel, wind blows from the park.
Last night you were here at my place,
But you pine, because of my even life
And the end didn't gift smile for face,
Nonetheless you were seemed to me wife.
So, farewell, I will live to my spring
without wife and without wedding ring.
Today clouds do not know some rest,
They go wave by wave one by one,
Your trace near porch got wet fast,
It says that you're gone, yes, you're gone.
And it's hurt to see dark when you're lone
in that nightfall and wait for the dawn.
And I wanted to shout after you,
Please, come back, you were close for me so,
There's no past for a woman, it's true,
There's no love and you're a stranger. You know.
I'll engage fireplace having drink,
Would be good to buy dog as I think.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Ivan Bunin
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