'Why to know me you? .'
To my daughter Nasya.
Why to know me you?
Go the your way!
Go, where go you.
You do not call me.
And mournfully to lament,
As over a coffin,
Do not need, is in vain, forgive.
Your poor spirit is alien to me.
You are simply firm stone.
I am from a heat, and you are from an old ores.
And you will not touch my memory -
All is burdensome, unnecessary work.
I am all live, gentle, nude.
And you are all from the stones
And consequently with you,
I will be as the patient
Till an last days.
Go, go your way,
And do not call, with you I will not go.
So the silver birch spoke
To the proud rock, shaking on the wind.
2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem