The railway station
by Boris Pasternak
The station is the box incombustible
Of my partings, meetings and partings,
And my tested friend and the leader mine,
If I begin - merits're uncountable.
As common, my life was - in my scarf,
When a train was ready to boarding,
And puffed at us the Harpy's muzzles
With their grey and thick steam cover.
As common, if I sat you nearby -
And lid! - As I nestled, so out!
Farewell, my joy, darling! It's right time!
I shall now jump, the conductor!
As common, west was once drawn back
In the sleepers' and weather manouevres,
Beginning to snatch with the snowflakes,
In order you'd not fall into buffers.
And faded away the next whistle,
From distance the other one echoed,
And train, like a multi-humped blizzard,
Is sweeping out the platforms.
And that time the twilights are boiled,
And that time the fields and the wind
Are getting away after smoke, -
Oh, how I'd like there to wheel!
1913, 1928
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Замечательное стихотворение!