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 don’t regret the days I lived, neither before nor after.