The lilac Bush

Владислав Михайлович Журавлёв
There was a lilac Bush under the window
 And gave off their fragrance
 And everyone who knew him,
 Broke branches not in a hurry.
 
 And the Bush cried at night sometimes,
 The stems hurt every time
 And the juice flowed bitter,
 Under a stone in this dark hour.
 
 I tried to cover the Bush with leaves
 All that's left in this moment
 And hid further in the center of his
 Flowers, like a greedy old man.
 
 He had them in his despair
 I wanted to save a few
 And show them only to that one,
 I listened to his speech.
 
 For the one that's about to
 From behind the hillock comes back.
 For the one that will rise
 Just like a young Firebird.
 
 He would give it to her
 All those hidden flowers
 And all the leaves, do not fall off
 And all the last guns.
 
 And next to a thin Rowan tree,
 Their painted fruit
 She seemed to be speaking softly:
 & quot;Where, where do you look"?
 
 Isn't my outfit bright?
 Am I not so slender?
 Why are you hiding your gift
 Not for me, not for me?!