Rus', you are but a kiss in the frost!
The midnight roads are blueing.
Lips joined in a blue lightning bolt,
Clasped, he and she are blueing.
Sometimes at night lightning would spark
From the caress of two mouths.
And a bluing, languished lightning bolt
Would swiftly outline two coats.
And the night would shine intelligent and dark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem