Spring Breaks In Rivers
Spring breaks in rivers the ice-floes,
And I don't pity my sweet dead:
Having subdued my heights and roads,
Forgot I winter narrow lows,
And see the distance, in blue set.
What might be pitied in a fire,
Why to be sorry by a cross,
When I am waiting for a mire
Or for a gift of Heaven Sire
From that great bush that Moses lost!
Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets.
Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.