He is truly like national russian
Is like prayers and Russian folklore,
Never suits to him the word «fashion»,
But the deep root of nation – in him.
With the words he is skillfully playing
Doesn’t prick you, but simply makes laugh.
In my heart he is deeply injected
And he walks with me upon the sky.
Inoffensive, facetious, not frightful,
He comes out to us with whole soul.
Like the sun and the lighthouse tower
He is risong above the grey flock.
I don’t want it to get disappeared,
What they are reading now – is bad.
He is full of the infinite reaches
And like Russian word – always alive!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem