When You Are Standing On The Bank Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

When you are standing
On the bank of river
And thinking: 'What's there? '
Is it possible to appease my grief
There, on the opposite bank? '

The river is streaming its water
So far - I can't see the end.
It's so cold and uncomfortable
For my heart on this bank...

May be, that on the other side I'll forget
About the scratch of the shafts
Of the underfatigable Mill of Fate?
It erases to powder the images of faces
And of dreams - the circles, forgotten once...
And you hardly could remember,
Whether it was with you,
Or it will be, as a deja-vous...

The banks of river are cold,
And all are covered with snow...
What is there on the other side - joy?
Or another sorrow? ...

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In russian:

http: //www.stihi.ru/2011/02/27/2168