S.Yesenin, Oh, My Land... - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

Oh my land, forgotten been,
Oh my land, been waste,
Hayfield, all without bevelling,
Thicket and convent.
Houses had crooked aside,
They are only five.
Their roofs had foamed up
To the dawn's wet dike.

Under the straw-chasuble
The rafter's adzes seen.
Wind sprinkled a mould blue
With the sunny beams.

Into windows without miss
The ravens shoot with wings,
As a blizzard, with its sleeve
Waves the bird-cherry tree.

Isn't that a fairy-tale,
Your past being, life,
That in bush was whispered
By grass to a passer-by?

1914