In the past year or new
don't expect riches or oil.
I want to give you my word,
which will make it lighter.
The noise of speeches crushed into thousands
carelessly scattered grains,
it won't happen with the food itself,
what gives enlightenment in the eye.
You know, this priceless gift
I haven't found it yet – I haven't heard it.
It is a pity that life is like a candle stub –
fading – quieter and quieter.
Behind the rains of snow, and behind them
thrown off the ice, revived rivers.
And I whisper the cherished name
kindness and love in a person.
I want to give you my word,
but I don't know where it is.
It will seem in the leaden sky,
that will flash in the departing pack.