In this village stove

Алиса Гаврииловна Стрелкова
In   & nbsp;this & nbsp; & nbsp; stove & nbsp; & nbsp; village
 Crackle & nbsp; without & nbsp; end & nbsp; & nbsp; wood.
 A  behind a & nbsp; transparent & nbsp; curtain
 Canvas & nbsp; sent out & nbsp; winter.
 Sleep !& nbsp; you & nbsp; Wake  not & nbsp; will,
 A & nbsp; climb & nbsp; quietly & nbsp; under & nbsp; bed,
 Old & nbsp; boots   & nbsp;get,
 And  go & nbsp; to & nbsp; & nbsp; forests & nbsp; & nbsp; walk! 
 The wires & nbsp; sound,  like & nbsp; gusli,
 Snow & nbsp; squeals & nbsp; & nbsp; puppy –
 Me   & nbsp;towards & nbsp; two & nbsp; & nbsp; grannies,
 Go   to God's   Temple   & nbsp; on foot.
 The ice   POPs  in   line   the river,
 Sorochy   & nbsp;Bazaar & nbsp; in & nbsp; & nbsp; pine.
 And   & nbsp;Rowan trees, like & nbsp; extinct & nbsp; candles,
 Stand & nbsp; at random & nbsp; in the distance.
 Invigorates  winter    weather
 A washout   shakes   in & nbsp; & nbsp; Creek.
 Oak, & nbsp; as & nbsp; & nbsp; terrible & nbsp; & nbsp; Governor ;
 In   white -     white & nbsp; & nbsp; zipun.