Sunday, November 1, 2015

In Loving Memory of Flight 9268 lost souls

Russian are WE

31 10 2015

We now get a little

In the country where the peace and quiet.

Maybe I'm on the road

Mortal belongings to collect.

Cute birch thicket!

You, earth! And you, plains Sands!

Before this the outgoing host of

I cannot hide my anguish.

I too loved in this world

All that the soul creates the flesh.

World of asps, which, spreading branches,

Gazed at the pink water.

A lot of thoughts in the silence I thought,

Many songs himself resigned,

And on this sullen earth

Happy with what I breathed and lived.

Happy that I kissed women,

Crushed flowers were strewn on the grass,

And the animals as our little brothers,

Never hit on the head.

I know that there are not in bloom thicket,

Not ringing a Swan's neck rye.

Because before the outgoing host of

I always feel a shiver.

I know that the country will not be

These NIV, slotwise in the mist.

That's why people dear to me,

Live with me on earth.

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