Россия дымчатая даль ( Anatoly Andreev)

Anatoly Andreev Russia is a smoky distance. In the cuts of dusty crossroads, forests, a ruby shawl and the sleep of countless churchyards. The soul is bright, And the path is clear, when I breathe you in love. Water the unplowed sadness and the rivers flow blue. I love. There, the rogue wind scratches the braids of the linden groves. And at dawn the shepherd s whip knocks the dew off the silken grasses. And something important in the soul, bliss spreads like fire and does not pass away. Where does such a wonderful thing happen Russia is a smoky distance in the sections of snout intersections. I lived in Russia and I dont regret the days I lived, neither before nor after.